


Starstruck Daily

by cptnjtk



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Christopher Pike Lives, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, I am playing cliche bingo, M/M, Oblivious Jim, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, and winning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptnjtk/pseuds/cptnjtk
Summary: "Bones, I really don't want to read about what people write about my crew." Jim sighed, taking another sip of his coffee. "It's usually all lies.""Of course, of course," McCoy nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee, smacking his lips before casually asking, "so, when were you planning on telling me about your passionate love affair with Spock?"Jim choked on his drink so hard he felt burning coffee shoot out of his nose.-An article published in the infamous magazine Starstruck Daily forces Jim and Spock to pretend to be a couple to boost Starfleet's reputation.What was meant to be a secretly-fake, short-lived, whirlwind romance for good press eventually spins out of control.After all, nothing ever really stays secret.





	1. Chapter 1

Jim liked to eat his breakfast in peace. It wasn't uncommon to see him sitting alone in the mess hall in the early hours of alpha shift when it was at its least busy, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and a plate of - usually burnt around the edges - toast in front of him while he flicked through his PADD. Occasionally a few brave officers would seat themselves down and offer him their company, which he politely accommodated and would chat with them about their week, how they're enjoying the enterprise, any projects they were working on - anything, really. No better way to get to know your crew than face-to-face, Jim believed. He appreciated their gesture, and enjoyed their presence, however, most of the time he preferred his own company so early and the peace it brought to him before a hard days work.

 

That was why he was less than pleased with the unusually lively atmosphere in the mess hall when he was trying to concentrate on reading his e-mails. The hushed whispers buzzing throughout the mess were almost conspiratorial, with more than one head thrown in his direction. He glanced around suspiciously, only to meet avoiding eyes and ducked heads and suddenly preoccupied officers who were very interested in their meal. A swift glance around the room seem to put an end to the chipper atmosphere but did in no way put a stopper on the secretive climate that was surrounding the mess. Odd.

 

With one final glance, Jim gladly returned to his PADD, reading a recent email from Pike that outlined the details of their next mission. A relatively simple mission - pick up the Vulcan dignitaries from Starbase 6 and bring them to New Vulcan. It would take no less than a week, and perhaps would allow a short period of shore leave while in orbit around New Vulcan. 

 

Jim was mentally making a note to look into shore leave plans when McCoy sauntered into the mess, a PADD clutched in his arms, looking fairly amused for a man who just recently had to deal with a rather large outbreak of a Deltan Flu. Spotting Jim, he nodded to the captain before replicating himself some coffee and wandered over to Jim's table, plunking himself down on the seat opposite his captain.

 

"Mornin', Jim." McCoy _smiled_  - honest to god _smiled_. He, like many of the officers in the mess, seemed far too chipper for this early in the day. There was a hint of mirth in his features that Jim deemed extraordinarily mischevious and atypical of the good doctor, whose only three perpetual moods ever seemed to be either pissed-off, really-pissed-off, and oh-boy-you're-in-trouble-now. Jim often found himself on the receiving end of the former, and really, truly pitied the poor soul who found themselves on the receiving end of the latter. It wasn't pretty. Jim knew that first hand - if his instinctual fear of hypos was anything to go by.

 

"Morning, Bones." Jim replied, lowering his PADD and placing it on the table beside his coffee. His eyes fell briefly at the PADD held loosely in McCoy's hand, and he tried to temper the growing feeling of unease that was rising within him.

 

"What're ya reading there, kid?" McCoy asked, eyes briefly flickering down to Jim's PADD. Jim's eyes followed his to the e-mail openly displayed on his screen. 

 

"Just a briefing on our next mission. We're headed for Starbase six," Jim replied, and McCoy gave an understanding nod, that unusal smile still adorning his face. Almost like a... smirk. Jim's suspicions rose. "No offence, Bones, but why are you this jolly at five-thirty a.m.?"

 

"Jolly? Me?" McCoy asked, raising an eyebrow and feigning confusion but there was a mirthful glimmer dancing behind his eyes. 

 

"Jolly. You." Jim confirmed, powering off his PADD and pushing it aside in favour of his coffee.

 

McCoy seemed to momentarily debate something while Jim took a sip of his coffee. It was sweet, but no amounts of sugar and cream could disguise the bitterness of the replicated drink. Frowning, he considered maybe switching to tea like Spock had suggested.

 

"Well?" Jim pressed, scrunching up his nose at the almost acidic aftertaste of his drink. He made a mental more to pick up actual coffee beans on Starbase 6.

 

"How often are you reading the news, kid?" McCoy inquired, and Jim responded by raising an eyebrow at him.

 

"Everyday, Bones. Kinda important to know what's going on in space when you're flying through the uncharted areas of it. Gotta know what's hot and what's not, I guess." 

 

"And what would be 'hot' right now?"

 

Jim shrugged, feeling his confusion growing. "I don't know, there's been a ceasefire in the Bellum system? Tensions have reached boiling point in the civil conflict in the alpha quadrant in Palioxis?"

 

"Well, that's all well and good," McCoy brushed it off with a wave of his hand, and by default dismissing Jim's confused response of "not really?" and instead pondered a different question. "I meant have you been keeping up with social news."

 

"You mean magazines?" Jim questioned, his features drawing into a look of distaste and McCoy nodded, "never really pegged you as the type to read gossip stories, Bones, but then again, Chapel tells me that you and Scotty practically run the gossip mill on this ship so maybe it's not all that surprising."

 

"Very funny," McCoy deadpanned and Jim smirked at him from behind his mug. "But seriously, you don't keep up with magazines of any kind?

 

"Not really," Jim shrugged but his sense of unease was still growing and, not for the first time, his eyes found themselves drawn to the PADD in the good doctor's hands, "they're mostly speculation and reaching as far as I'm concerned. Why?"

 

"Well, it's just that this being the famous Enterprise, our crew tends to a garner a fair bit of attention from the press," McCoy began, and Jim had no choice but to agree with his observation, given the amount of wild stories flung around the media about particular crew members. 

 

"Bones, I really don't want to read about what people write about my crew." Jim sighed, taking another sip of his coffee. "It's usually all lies."

 

"Of course, of course," McCoy nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee, smacking his lips before he casually asked, "so when were you planning on telling me about your passionate love affair with Spock?"

 

Jim choked on his drink so hard be felt burning coffee shoot out of his nose. "My _what_?" He squawked indignantly, hand grasping his throat as he felt like he was about to cough up his lungs, eyes watering and nose stinging. All the while, McCoy had taken to chuckling into his coffee, obviously pleased with himself, and ignoring the curious gaze of confused onlookers.

 

McCoy then finally turned on his PADD and flipped it around so Jim could read it. There, in big, bold, bright red letters, it read:

 

_**STAR-CROSSED LOVERS** _

_The secret love affair between Starfleet's very own Captain James Kirk and Commander Spock!_

 

Jim snatched the PADD out of McCoy's grip and rapidly flicked through the article, eyes skimming over the words to pick out key details. 

 

"What do they mean 'much speculation'?" Jim demanded, eyes narrowed as he read the article. "What 'eye-witness accounts'?"

 

McCoy, whose spirits seemed to have been lifted to the heavens, barely managed to cought out "scroll down to the sixth paragraph" while failing to hide his glee by chuckling into his coffee.

 

Jim did as he was told and flicked down, and felt anger flare in his chest, as he read aloud:

 

"' _They're head over heels for each other.' One source, who would prefer to remain anonymous, has informed our chief journalist, Rit'zu Zwale-ek. 'Like, crazy in love. They'd do anything for each other. If they're not saving the other's life, then they're spending all of their free time together. They eat together, train together, play chess together, it goes on and on. It's so sweet.' Adorable, we at Starstruck Daily..."_

 

Jim looked up at McCoy in disbelief, and the doctor abandoned all pretences and began to laugh unashamedly, head thrown back in glee as if the whole situation was extremely amusing to him. Which it evidently was. Bastard.

 

"That's my favourite part," McCoy said, wiping a tear from his eye, and motioned for Jim to keep reading.

 

With an irritated glare, Jim focused his attention back on the article.

 

_While also enjoying short epsiode of shore leave in Yorktown, the two officers were spotted alone in a local restaurant late at night._

 

There was a picture pasted below the line; it was of Jim and Spock, dressed in semi-formal clothing, sitting together in a booth at a restaurant.

 

"That is completely out of context," Jim almost yelled, jabbing his finger at the picture. "We were waiting for you, Scotty, and Uhura to show up - we were all having dinner together that night!"

 

McCoy was now laughing so hard he couldn't respond, and had simply resorted to smacking the table with his palm as he shook with laughter. Jim read on.

 

The article continued to speculate about their relationship, throwing in some 'pretty damning proof' (pictures taken out of context and analysed thusly) and guessed that they had been together roughly six months. 

 

Irritated, Jim shoved the PADD away from him without finishing it. He had never cared much for tabloids but this was ridiculous. Spock was his friend, not - according to the article - his secret lover.

 

"This is bullshit." Jim exclaimed, and then, by some act of fate, spotted said so-call secret lover entering the mess hall, speaking with a blue shirted ensign. "Spock! Get over here!"

 

Spock nodded his head at the ensign, a clear dismissal, and made his way across the mess, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way. 

 

"Captain," Spock greeted, eyes falling to McCoy, who was now silently laughing so hard his face had turned a bright shade pink. Spock raised an eyebrow at him, and nodded, "Doctor." McCoy could only give a thumbs up to acknowledge him.

 

"Have you seen this?" Jim demanded, picking up the disposed PADD and shoving it into Spock's hands. Spock raised an eyebrow at the title and read the article, giving no visible reaction to the story. His eyes sweeped across the PADD and he was finished in an incredibly short period of time.

 

"It would appear that it is our sixth month anniversary, Captain. Why did you not inform me, I would have gotten you flowers to celebrate the occasion." Spock deadpanned, handing the device back to Jim and sitting down in the chair next to McCoy. His comment seemed to trigger another bout of laughter in McCoy. With a vicious glare thrown in his direction, Jim ignored the doctor who seemed to have no intention of stopping.

 

"Did you know about this?" Jim asked, flinging the PADD onto the table between them.

 

"I was not aware of the article, no, however it would explain a lot about the crew's behaviour this morning." Spock replied.

 

"You noticed that, huh?" Jim said, throwing a threatening glower over Spock's shoulder at crew members who were either brave enough or dumb enough to continue to stare. The site of narrowed blue eyes seemed to do the trick as there was a bustle of movement as officers swung back around in their seats. "What do you make of it?" 

 

"What is there to make, Captain?" Spock didn't shrug, but his posture radiated a similar vibe. "Starstruck Daily are notorious for publishing bizarre and outlandish articles that rely too heavily on speculation and what they consider to be 'damning proof'."

 

Jim felt his lips twitch, a sense of calm that had escaped him all morning finally beginning to settle over him.

 

"Spock's right, Jim." McCoy added, who finally seemed to have recovered from his laughing fit and was wiping a final tear from his eye. "They're not exactly a credible news source. Just a few years back they published an article comparing Vulcans to cats." 

 

Spock nodded. "I am certain they will find other people to fixate on next week and post an article about that. It is nothing to worry about, Captain."

 

"You're right," Jim conceded. Articles were published about his crew all the time, this was just another pebble on the mountain.

 

Nothing to worry about indeed.

 

                                   ....

 

Except until it was.

 

"You want us to _what?_ " Jim demanded, pacing around his office. Spock was seated at his desk, posture stiff and face blank, and Admiral Komack's face was displayed on the private screen in Jim's office.

 

"Pretend to date, not that difficult to comprehend, Kirk." Komack replied curtly. "That article from Starstruck Daily is spreading like wildfire across the federation."

 

"So what? Doesn't mean I'm gonna pretend to be in a relationship with my First Officer! You know what those writers at Starstruck Daily are like - they'd push their own grandmother down a flight of stairs just to get numbers up." Jim ranted.

 

"Ridiculous as they may be, they have the highest readership numbers of any magazine in the damn galaxy. This article has got a lot of people talking-"

 

"- you've got to be kidding me -"

 

"And this," Komack pressed on, ignoring Jim's interruption, "isn't the first article that has debated about the nature of your relationship," he said, turning his PADD to show numerous tabs displaying many different e-magazine covers with various pictures of Kirk and Spock adorning them. "But this article was published in Starstruck Daily, which billions of people across the federation read, including possible future cadets."

 

That made Jim pause his pacing. "And what exactly, admiral, does that have to do with me and Spock?" His tone was acidic and condescending but he didn't care. This was a new boundary that even the admiralty was pushing.

 

"Long story short? Admission numbers into Starfleet have dropped. Significantly. There is reluctance from some planets with regards to joining the federation." Komack explained, tapping away at his PADD again before showing Kirk and Spock some diagrams. "Do you know why?"

 

"I would assume the latest series of attacks in recent years have discouraged enrolment." Spock replied, raising an eyebrow. "However, there has also been rumours of infighting between leading figures in politics, dominant races taking precedence over others in political matters, talks of corruption in the higher ranks of Starfleet -"

 

"Yeah, okay, I get it," Komack interrupted, with an annoyed eye roll, "but I'm talking about the, for the lack of a better word, dehumanization of Starfleet."

 

"On the contrary, a major concern with Starfleet is that humans make up a majority of it." Spock replied, which caused Jim to snort before breaking into a fit of laughter. Spock glanced at him, his lips turned up at the corners the tiniest bit. 

 

"That's not what I mean, Commander, and you know it." Komack replied, his tone clipped.

 

"I still don't understand how Spock and I fit into this."

 

"C'mon, Kirk, pull your head out of your ass. You and Spock are Starfleet's golden boys. The public love you. They like Starfleet, sure, but they love you."

 

"So..?"

 

"So we need good publicity and who better to publicise it than the golden boys?" At Jim and Spock's blank faces, Komack heaved a sigh and explained, "the public loves romance. The public loves you. The public will love your romance. The public will love that your romance started in Starfleet and the public will join Starfleet looking for the same thing. Our reputation improves, our numbers improve."

 

"Right, but Spock and I aren't a couple."

 

"And that logic is flawed and your reasoning extremely deceptive."

 

"What happens when we break up?" 

 

"The story will be long blown over by then," Komack brushed the concerns aside. "Happens all the time. Hell, there used to be articles about Pike and your dad, for crying out loud."

 

"There's used to be _what_ about _who_ now?" Jim sputtered.

 

"Exactly, but they're long forgotten now." Komack shrugged.

 

"I don't like this." Jim said, feeling uneasy. 

 

"It isn't the worst thing you've done since becoming, Captain." Komack said, "and it probably won't be the worse thing you'll do. There's a lot at stake here. Now, Kirk, Spock, can we rely on you?"

 

Jim turned to Spock, who merely met his eyes. He didn't like the sound of that. A lot at stake? It sounded like a threat.

 

"Well?" Komack demanded.

 

"Give us a minute," Jim snapped, muting the screen. That was going to piss the admiral off but oh well - Jim was far beyond the realm of caring. This was taking it a step too far.

 

"Well, Spock? What are we gonna do?" Jim asked, hesitant and defeated, leaning against his desk beside the Vulcan. 

 

"I do not believe there is much we can do, Captain. I believe, as you say, our hands are tied. We have sworn loyalty to best promote the interests of Starfleet any way which the admiralty deems necessary, in this case, fabricating the nature of our relationship in order to boost morale not only on our ship but across the board." Spock explained. "It is indeed an outrageous demand and no doubt we will face numerous complications, however, I believe Admiral Komack has given us an ultimatum. There is more at stake here than Starfleet's reputation, a more personal matter."

 

"He'll split us up." Jim concluded, and this time he really did see no alternative. This wasn't the first time they had threatened to split Spock and Jim up, but it was the first time that something had really been at stake. Jim sighed, "Spock, I don't want to anything doing anything your uncomfortable with. You know - lying, public romance - I mean, we give an inch and they'll take a mile. And, oh god, shore leave on New Vulcan of all places. We'll be hounded by the press night and day."

 

"If this is what it takes then I am willing to participate. I also do not wish to see you in an uncomfortable position, Captain. Or one that is extremely restrictive on your social life."

 

"Hell, I don't care about that, Spock," Jim shrugged nonchalantly, "I can go a few weeks without being the social butterfly that I am. Fold my wings." He grinned, and Spock didn't even bother to acknowledge it with a response. "So we're really doing this, huh?"

 

"It would seem so." Spock replied, his face neutral.

 

"Okay, okay, okay," Jim nodded, "time to face the music." He said as he unmuted the screen, to reveal the furious face of James Komack.

 

"Kirk, what the hell -"

 

"We'll do it." Jim interrupted. "We'll pretend to be a couple."

 

The change was instantaneous. Komack features softened and his shoulders relaxed, and a smile spread across his face as he clapped his hands together. "Fantastic! Wonderful!" Jim rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you both to sort out the details. Shouldn't be a problem. I'll sort out the publicity details. The more you hint at it, the more gossip it will create. The more gossip, the more articles - you get the gist." Komack said, and then, suddenly stern and on a more serious note, "one last thing, boys, this remains between us. The admiralty and you two. We can't let the press catch wind of the fact that's it's not real. Understood?"

 

"Yes, Sir." Spock and Jim replied simultaneously.

 

With a nod from Komack, the screen went blank. The tension in the room was almost palpable.

 

"Well, let's grab some lunch," Jim broke the ice with an easy smile as Spock rose from the chair and followed Jim out, "and we can figure how we got together, _honey_." 

 

"Of course," Spock replied as the door swished closed behind him, "sweetheart."

 

Jim almost missed the way his heart skipped a beat at that. 

 

 

                                   ....

 

 

"I say we got together after that shore leave on Rigelia. They're a real romantic civilisation and all into that lovey-dovey crap. Seems like a nice place to fall in love."

 

Spock and Jim were sitting in the mess hall, which was much more crowded than it had been earlier that day. They chose a table that was fairly secluded but still within viewing range of the crew. The article, if possible, had spread even further throughout the crew and now every crew member seemed be casting furtive glances in their direction, which was beginning to grate on Jim's nerves.

 

"There was a murder committed while we were there." Spock reminded Jim. 

 

"Oh yeah." Jim pursed his lips, realisation dawning on him. "What about... oh, I don't know." He sighed, and then caught sight of the crew watching them again. Really, it was as if they had nothing better to do.

 

"They had better stop staring or I'm gonna start dishing out cleaning shifts." Jim commented and Spock looked up from his plate to also catch a gimpse of the crew, who were failing horribly at hiding their interest. He said it loud enough for surrounding crew members to hear, and they quickly switched their attention to something else, wether it was their friend or their fork.

 

"They are curious, Captain. Several of them now believe us to be in a relationship due to the article published by Starstruck Daily. They are perhaps trying to discern the truth for themselves." Spock replied, "and it is now our duty to prove it to them."

 

"So what about that time we were at Starbase Fourteen?" Jim suggested.

 

"Perhaps it would be beneficial to look at previous articles written about our relationship." Spock suggested, and Jim nodded, quickly typing on his PADD. "Admiral Komack implied that there were several."

 

"Oh my god." Jim felt his eyes widen as pages upon pages of articles appeared on his screen, all bearing similar titles. Several didn't even begin to scratch the surface of how many there were. "Listen to this! The _Galaxy Today_ posted ' _They're dating! Kirk and Spock's Romance Rocks the Federation!_ ' The _Federation Tribune_ posted ' _Couple Alert: The Untold Love Story of Starfleet's Finest_.' Did you know anything about this?" Jim asked as he scrolled and scrolled, even more articles showing up on his screen.

 

"I did not," Spock replied, leaning over to read from the PADD. "There are pictures."

 

Jim had spotted that too. He clicked on them and could only laugh feebly.

 

He tossed the PADD casually between them. An article from The Nova Chronicle had a picture of the two of them splashed across the screen. They were walking along a beach, the one that they had visited during shore leave on Gamma XI. Dressed casually, Jim in jeans and a plain shirt, and Spock in black trousers (not unsimilar to Jim's) and a short sleeved shirt, similar to the one he usually wore under his uniform.

 

Jim remembered back to the day, and how difficult it had been to get Spock to join him but the Vulcan eventually conceded. It was the first time they had spent recreational time together off the ship, and just the two of them. The red sand of Gamma XI reminded him of Vulcan, Spock had told him as they had walked along the beach. Jim hadn't known if it was a good or bad thing at the time. Spock had never confirmed either.

 

Jim gazed at the picture, a dull sense of yearning within him triggered by nostalgia of an easier time. Not that he didn't enjoy his current relationship with his First Officer, but everything had seemed easier then. No Khan, no Krall. Almost like a new beginning full of innocence and hope after the Narada Incident. He let his eyes sweep across the picture and it was just then that he noticed the title.

 

**_SECRET ROMANTIC GETAWAY_ **

_Captain James Kirk and Commander Spock, famous for their defeat of the crazed Romulan Nero (see pg. 12) were recently spotted on a romantic getaway on Gamma XI. Enjoying a sunny day at the beach, the two officers were spotted splashing around in the water --_

 

"I _fell_  in the water!" Jim blurted, eyes scanning over the document before he narrowed them, "wait - Nero? How old is this article?" Nero was a long time ago. So many things had happened since the Narada Incident. Khan. Krall. The Inferno Incidient at the Naga Starbase. Jim was really starting to understand why Starfleet admission numbers were down. But really - had the rumours been going on this long?

 

"It would appear that the media has been speculating about our relationship for quite some time, Captain," Spock said, apparently in the same line of thought. 

 

"Yeah, that's weird." Jim replied as he flicked through more photos. One depicted them having lunch at Starfleet, captioned once again as a secret date, another was a picture of them just standing beside each other, which was quoted to be quite close by Vulcan norms. Well, maybe that was true but Spock never seemed to mind Jim's proximity when they spoke.

 

"Does it bother you?" Jim asked, looking up from the PADD. "That people write about us? I mean, I know Vulcans are extremely private and to have your so called private life plastered all over magazines and articles can't be ideal."

 

"It is unusual, however, it is not the worst press I have received." Spock replied. "During my childhood there were numerous scientific articles and academic journals published about my biology, suggesting it was perhaps inferior to that of a pure blood Vulcan."

 

"I'm sorry. That must have sucked." Jim consoled, reaching out a comforting hand and placing it on Spock's arm. "I mean I used to hate the media when I was a kid, you know? Always posting about George Kirk's family and why isn't his son just like him? It sucks."

 

"Indeed," Spock replied, features softening, "however, it did prove beneficial in the study of hybrid genetics. Regardless, I have become accustomed to media attention my whole life. I am not particularly concerned about our situation. And yourself, Captain?"

 

"I still think the admiralty are really pushing the limits of their power but I guess I can understand where they're coming from. Short lived romances and crap like that have always had a way of drawing the public's attention away from the bad. Remember when Queen R'na threw that huge wedding ceremony for her daughter and everyone seemed to conveniently forget that their planet accidentally destroyed their repository containing large supplies of dilithium?" Jim said, shrugging. "It's probably for the best that our current dilemma isn't a cover up for some shady or devious Starfleet issue. They just want a publicity boost."

 

"Perhaps," Spock agreed. 

 

"I mean, how bad could it be? We play a charming couple for a few weeks, people love us, Starfleet recovers it's rep, the people move on to a new fascination, and then we quietly break up. Done and dusted, right?" Jim smiled. 

 

"Right." Spock didn't look as convinced.

 

If only things were ever that easy.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

By the time the day was up, it seemed that every single crew member had read the article published in Starstruck Daily. Ensigns and commanders alike gossiped around corners, sharing scandalous rumours and secret tales quietly with one another, and quickly scurrying apart at the sight of pointed ears or blonde hair. This was the exact reaction Jim had gotten when he exited the turbolift, briefly witnessing a blur of red and yellow as the two officers disappeared into separate rooms.

"I mean seriously," Jim grumbled later that night, moving his pawn across the board, "everyone on this ship is an adult - you would think they'd find a better use for their time than gossiping about other people."

Despite how irritating it was to be talked about, Jim couldn't find it in himself to be overly annoyed. After all, the current mission to pick up the Vulcan dignitaries was the first one the Enterprise had been assigned in a while. Previous to that, they had just been floating tediously through empty space with the occassional run-of-the-mill patrol across the neutral zone. People would undoubtedly get bored. The article seemed to have generated a buzz that the ship had been devoid of these last few weeks. So, really, Jim couldn't blame them for talking about it. It didn't mean he had to like it, though.

"It appears to have boosted ship morale by thirty-seven-point-six percent in the space of several hours." Spock said, considering his next move. "The crew now has something new to preoccupy themselves with other than ship business."

"I guess," Jim conceded, giving a non-committal shrug. "I still don't know how we're going to pull it off."

They had mutually agreed on the basic details of their relationship. One, they'd been together roughly four months. Two, they got together one random night after a chess match. And three, they had been keeping it on the down-low and were very happy together.

But that was a far cry from actually announcing their phony relationship to the entire crew. How would they even go about it? Casually announce it over the comm. system? Send a ship-wide email disclosing their new status? Each suggestion seemed more ridiculous than the last. So now they were sitting in Jim's office, brainstorming over a game of chess and were no closer to the answer than they had been several hours ago at lunch.

"Man, real relationships aren't even this hard to negotiate." Jim sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"I would assume that is because most real relationships occur naturally." Spock deadpanned, shifting his knight across the board, capturing Jim's pawn. A comfortable silence settled over them as they continued to play, only disrupted by a beeping from Spock's communicator.

" _Commander, we need you in Lab Four. Palmer out._ "

"Duty calls." Jim smiled as Spock began to stand up. "Comm. me when you're done and we can finish our match. If it's not too late, that is."

"Of course, Captain." Spock said, and bid his farewell as he made to leave the office. The door swished open and Jim could see officers walking up and down the corridor. An idea struck him and he jumped to his feet.

"Spock wait!" Jim ordered and hastily made his way over to the Vulcan. Spock held open the door, standing in between the bulkhead, giving the crew on the opposite side a clear view of them. Perfect, Jim thought.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock asked, eyebrow raised.

Jim paused and then decided - screw it. "Play along," he whispered with a hesitant smile, not even giving Spock time to register what he had said. Throwing caution to the wind, Jim grabbed Spock's bicep and tugged the Vulcan towards him, shutting his eyes tight and standing up on his tiptoes to press their lips together briefly for the whole corridor to see.

"That should do it," Jim whispered against Spock's lips before pulling himself away and stumbling back into his office. "Comm me," he called with a wink just as the door swished shut.

The last thing Jim saw was a rather stunned looking Spock and three slack jawed ensigns.

....

  
Jim estimated he was sitting at his desk a mere nine minutes when his office door was practically wrenched open by Doctor McCoy.

"You know that override code is only meant to be used in emergency situations." Jim commented, not even looking up from his PADD.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" McCoy demanded, slamming his hands down on Jim's desk. Several pens on his desk fell off, and his little owl bobblehead rattled incessantly.

"Trying to organise a shore leave schedule for New Vulcan," Jim replied, chewing on the edge of his stylus. "Do you think M'Benga will be working at the New Shi'Kahr medical centre while we're there or should I schedule him for leave?"

"What is this I hear about you makin' out with Spock in the middle of the corridor?" McCoy questioned.

Wow, news travelled fast.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bones." Jim replied, purposely obtuse, as he focused more attentively on his PADD.

"Fifteen crew members saw you." McCoy said flatly. "Said you were makin' out with your hands all over him!"

Wow, news also travelled wrong. What happened? Did the crew play a game of telephone all the way down to the medbay? A quick kiss somehow turned into a full-blown make out session.

"We didn't make out." Jim insisted, and the tension along McCoys shoulders relaxed, "we kissed. And my hands were _not_  all over him because I am a gentleman."

The tension returned tenfold and Jim could almost see the greying of the doctor's hair from where he was sitting.

"So you _did_ kiss him?" McCoy scowled.

"Well I mean it was more of a peck, really." Jim replied, shrugging as he returned to his unfinished rota. McCoy stared.

"Kid, you mind explaining to me _why_ you kissed your First Officer in front of the crew?"

"Isn't that what boyfriends do?" Jim asked innocently.

McCoy continued to stare. Well, it looked more like a glower to Jim but whatever - tomato, tomato, right?

" _Jim_." The doctor said warningly.

"Fine," Jim groaned, dropping his stylus onto his desk and shoving his PADD aside. "Earlier today, during our meeting with him, Komack ordered us to pretend to be a couple in order to boost morale and Starfleet's reputation, and encourage people to sign up. Nobody outside the admiralty can know."

Whatever McCoy had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that. His expression was nothing short of gawking as he stumbled and fell back into his seat, staring at Jim with a slack jaw.

"You're kiddin'." He said.

"I wish." Jim smiled weakly. "Apparently that article in Starstruck Daily has gained a lot of attention. Good attention, I suppose, for Starfleet but not so good attention for my friendship with Spock."

"Spock actually agreed to do this?" McCoy asked, looking staggered. "Spock - our strict, tight-ass, emotionless Vulcan of a First Officer agreed to lie to the entire galaxy and pretend to be in a relationship with you of all people?"

"What do you mean me 'of all people'? I will have you know that Spock and I are practically two sides of the same coin."

"You and Spock aren't even the same currency."

"Well, opposites attract." Jim huffed, trying not to show know miffed he was. He and Spock would make a decent couple. And he made it known. "We'd be very complementary."

McCoy leaned back into his seat, his lips twitching. He crossed his arms over his chest expectantly. "So you actually kissed the hobgoblin?"

"Shut up, Bones." Jim grabbed his PADD again and yanked it towards him, feeling a familiar burn in his cheeks.

"So?" McCoy prompted, eyebrow raised.

"So what?" Jim replied, once again nibbling on the end of his stylus as he read the same line over and over again on his PADD, pretending not hear the mocking intent in the doctor's tone.

"So how long are you gonna keep this up?" McCoy asked. "Can we expect a strategically-timed wedding and politically-expedient pointed-eared babies in the future?"

"Very funny, Bones." Jim deadpanned before admitting, "I'm not sure. Komack said it should blow over in a few weeks. Just enough time to increase rates, I suppose. Everything should be back to normal by the end of the month."

"You _really_ think anything can go back to _normal_ after this?"

"Well, yeah. Spock wouldn't have agreed to it if he wasn't comfortable, right? We're both willing to set aside our difference to work through this. I mean, why wouldn't it go back to normal? It's just a part, albeit a very weird part, of the job."

"And it means nothing more to you?" McCoy asked. Jim frowned.

"No. Why would it? Spock's my best friend. If anything, this will give us something to look back on and laugh," Jim paused, before correcting, "well I'll laugh and Spock will probably just have it efficiently processed into his long-term memory."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Jim. How the hell did you even convince him to play along?"

"I didn't need to convince him. He just agreed." Jim shrugged, before actually trying to focus on his work, hoping that that was the end of it. He really did need to finish the rota before shore leave or else he would have a very stressed and potentially mutinous crew on his hands.

"Did he now?" The doctor leaned back in his chair, arms folded. Jim missed the curious look that crossed his face.

....

  
One kiss.

One single kiss.

That was all it took for the rumours on the ship to explode. They were everywhere he turned. Ensign Elliot swore she saw them making out in the observation deck, her claim backed up by, not one, but _twenty three_ crewmembers. Lieutenant Lorel had heard that Spock was planning to propose. Someone had told Commander Vo that they were apparently eloping on New Vulcan. Did Vulcans even elope?

Jim had the lingering suspicion that the suddenly silent bridge had been discussing something of that nature before he arrived for his shift. He slowly made his way across the bridge, acknowledging his crew members appropriately. They avoided his eyes with a polite nod and a dutiful "Captain".

Narrowing his eyes, he seated himself in the chair with a sweeping glance around the room. Chekov and Sulu were fiddling with the dials on their console without actually doing any work, sharing not-so-subtle glances. Scotty was actually on the bridge for a change, rather than working himself half to death in the engine rooms, but his chair was angled in the direction of Lieutenant Ramirez, clearly in the middle of some kind of conversation. Uhura seemed to be the only one actually working.

"Good morning everyone." Jim greeted, despite the fact that the concept of morning wasn't really applicable in outer space. There was a collective reply of "morning, Captain" and Jim smiled as he turned on his PADD and pulled up the mission outline from HQ. He opened up a shipwide channel. "Good morning, crew, this is your Captain speaking. We've been assigned a new mission."

The atmosphere on the bridge changed instantly. The crew's mood elevated. It had been a while since their last assigned mission. Sure it was a simple pick-up and drop-off but it gave them something to do rather than just sit mind-numbingly bored at their posts with the occasional drill.

"We are to pick up several Vulcan dignitaries from Starbase Six. We should arrive within two days at warp five. While the dignitaries are concluding their affairs, there will be a short period of leave available while we are in orbit of the starbase, roughly thirty-six hours. It's not mandatory you take leave so there will be a sign up sheet, so to speak," Jim explained, accepting the coffee offered to him Yeomand Rand. He took a sip before he continued, "we will depart the Starbase and be headed towards the New Vulcan colony to drop our guests off. That should take roughly four days at warp six. While there, there will be an official shore leave. Length currently unknown but at the very least a week. I'll keep you updated. On a side note, while they are with us, I want you all on your best behaviour and the ambassadors and their entourage are to be treated with the utmost respect. You all represent the very best of Starfleet and I know you'll do me proud. Kirk out."

"New Vulcan, Captain?" Sulu prompted, a mischievous look in his eyes. Jim didn't like it. "Any plans for shore leave, sir?"

"Nothing planned, Sulu," Jim replied, raising his eyebrow at the helmsman, "why?"

Sulu shrugged, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Just thought you'd take some time out to, oh I don't know, meet the in-laws."

The bridge erupted into laughter and Jim sighed, rolling his eyes. However, even he couldn't help the laugh that forced it's way out of his throat. He could handle some light teasing if it lifted the crew's spirits. He briefly wondered if Spock was on the receiving end of any jokes down in the labs. They would probably just fly right over his head.

"Very funny, Lieutenant." Jim said as the laughter died down. Sulu gave him an apologetic smile before turning back to his console. A comfortable atmosphere settled over the bridge now that the elephant in the room had been addressed but Jim really hoped they wouldn't push the topic. It had been bad enough with McCoy needling him about it but he really didn't need the whole crew breathing down his neck.

Jim settled with a PADD on his lap and began systematically going through his work. He couldn't focus though, his thoughts always returning to the previous night.

He had kissed Spock.

It felt odd to think about it, much less say it. Sure, maybe he had imagined it before but how could he not have? Spock was so... well, he was so Spock. It was hard not to be fascinated by him. Jim knew, objectively, that Spock was a very attractive man. He'd seen countless enamoured ensigns watching him with heart eyes and fluttered lashes and bright smiles. Hell, even Chekov had had a little crush on him when he first started - something that the young Russian in question would deny to his dying breath.

Jim had pinned the wandering thoughts down to spending too much time with the Vulcan and also his own dry spell. He hadn't quite realised that the entire media had had similar thoughts. He huffed out a laugh at the idea, shaking his head as he scrolled through his PADD, effectively dismissing his worries. He had bigger fish to fry at the minute.

....

  
The days following the article, and subsequent kiss, saw a definite boost in morale in the crew. It was partly concerning but mostly amusing to Jim. Discussions about their relationship were still at the heart of any gossipping onboard and Jim could see no end in sight. That was life on a starship for you - once they found something to sink their claws into there was just no letting go. Cabin fever and all that.

However, Jim very much doubted that that was what Spock and McCoy were talking about when he entered the mess. It was hard to see them through the crowded room - he briefly caught a glimpse of their heads bowed together in deep discussion before Ensign Fith's tail almost whipped him across the face.

It was an exceptionally busy day - they were due to pick up the Vulcan dignitaries from Starbase Six and so the crew were running around like headless chickens trying to get their affairs in order and have a quick breakfast before heading down for a short leave on the Starbase. The ship had been scrubbed clean and dress uniforms lay neatly folded and ready to be donned for when the Vulcan entourage were picked up later that night.

Jim shuffled his way through the crowd, his plate and cup of coffee being lifted over crewmembers' heads and under arms as he pushed through the gaggle of animated officers. He reached Spock and McCoy's table with only a minimal amount of coffee spilled somewhere on the floor and maybe on Commander Rhy's sleeve. He glanced back apologetically as he sat down next to Spock.

"Good morning." Jim greeted cheerfully. He cast a look between the two of them, who were suddenly silent as if they hadn't just been discussing something. "Busy day ahead."

"Mornin', kid." McCoy said, taking a bite of what looked like a piece of omelette.

"Captain." Spock greeted formally, taking a sip of his tea.

Both of them were silent. The tension could have been cut with a knife. Jim's eyebrows drew together, his curiosity peaking. What had they been talking about before he had arrived?

"Am I interrupting something?" Jim asked, his tone casual but enquiring.

"No," was the simultaneously reply from his officers, effectively putting the topic behind them, but there was a coolness between them as the three of them settled for their meal.

Jim didn't try to poke at the conversation- fat lot of use it would have been anyway seeing as McCoy and Spock were objectively the two most stubborn men on this ship. Next to Jim, that is, maybe. Still, they acted civil - _too_ civil - while Jim ate his breakfast burrito, casting quizzical looks between the two.

"Well, I'd best be headin'." McCoy eventually announced after he finished his omelette and downed the rest of his coffee. "I'm covering for M'Benga and my shift starts in fifteen minutes."

"I'll see you later, don't forget that we're picking up the ambassadors at twenty-hundred hours, standard time. I want you looking pristine in that dress uniform you love so much." Jim reminded him with a teasing lilt to his voice.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he waved him off, picking up his tray and departing from the table. However, before he left Jim could have sworn he had thrown a concerned look at Spock, who dutifully ignored it.

"Alright, what the hell was that about?" Jim asked, well _demanded_ really, rounding on his First Officer. Spock looked politely indifferent as he poked a piece of blue fruit onto his fork. Jim pressed, " _Spock_."

If it were in his nature, Spock probably would have sighed at Jim's probing. Instead, he answered, "Doctor McCoy has expressed some concern over a personal matter. However his concerns are unnecessary."

"What personal matter? Is everything okay?" Jim frowned, a sense of worry settling over him.

"Yes, Captain. Everything is fine." Spock replied flatly. Jim's eyes flickered over his face to determine something, anything, but Spock was particularly unreadable today. His expression remained completely neutral.

"Are you nervous about the Vulcan ambassadors? Is that what's bothering you?" Jim pressed.

"No, Captain." Spock said.

"Is it -"

" _Captain_." Spock interrupted, tone indicating that that was the end of the conversation and that he was unwilling to discuss it further.

"Fine." Jim conceded, his own tone sounding fairly petulant to even his own ears. "Don't tell me." Spock didn't. He continued to eat his breakfast and Jim went back to picking at his burrito, popping a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth.

"In case I forget," Jim prompted suddenly, the thought that had been bothering him recently coming to mind, "I wanted to apologise."

"Apologise?" Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

"For the kiss. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing but I should have asked first. That was pretty douchey of me." Jim explained, awkwardly scraping a piece of sausage around on his plate. He lowered his voice for nearby officers couldn't hear.

"It is of no consequence." Spock replied, his own voice quiet, "it proved effective in generating further rumours and boosting morale."

"Yeah, but still. I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I am willing to engage in any behaviour deemed appropriate and even considered expected in a relationship."

"Is that so?" Jim asked, something like a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looked around the mess. The crew had managed to hide their incessant staring a little better but it was still obvious that they were curious. If Spock was as comfortable as he said then it was time to give them a show.

Jim turned back to Spock with a mischievous look in his eye before he nodded to Spock's plate, which was full of some kind of sliced alien fruit. "What are you eating?"

"Reshkah, a fruit native to Vulcan." Spock replied.

"Feed it to me."

"Excuse me?" Spock blinked.

"Feed it to me," Jim repeated, turning to face Spock, "come on, the crew wanna gossip so let's give 'em something to gossip about. It'll make us look all couple-y and stuff. That cute shit. It's only logical."

Spock seemed to debate it in his head before he heaved a small sigh. Jim gave him an encouraging beam. "Very well," he pierced a piece of the purple fruit onto his fork, leaned forward and brought it to Jim's lips, acutely aware that every head in the mess had swivelled in their direction, necks craned over tables to catch a glimpse of their commanding officers.

Jim grinned as he closed his mouth around the fruit and winked at Spock. It was actually kind of delicious. It was soft, and tasted like a blend of honey, vanilla, and an unfamiliar spice that gave it just the right kick.

Within a matter of seconds, the mess had broken to a buzz of conversation, loud enough to disguise the whispered gossiping that had previously been spreading through the room.

"That should keep 'em tamed for a while." Jim said, watching his crew struggle not to look in their direction, not wanting to be on the recieving end of Jim's threatening glares. He was getting good at them - almost as good as Spock, if he were being honest, but nobody quite had that terrifying stare down quite like the Vulcan. New ensigns would quite literally scramble away from him if they saw it. Jim thought it was hilarious because, in reality, Spock was actually a really sweet guy and not as scary as the crew made him out to be, especially McCoy who would tell injured new science officers completely fabricated tales about the Vulcan.

("It's for their own good, Jim," McCoy had said as a wide-eyed, pale-faced Ensign Chambers stumbled out of the medbay, "if they're scared of the hobgoblin they'll be even more scared to mess up their experiments for him, meaning I don't have to deal with their stupid mistakes.")

"Indeed." Spock replied, his eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that usually signalled he was amused.

That had to be a dead giveaway, Jim thought. The kiss had certainly created a lot more rumours but, with such a tiny audience, there were still a lot of crewmembers who had their doubts. Mostly the senior officers in the crew who weren't so inclined to believe everything spewed from the rumour mill on the ship.

"You know, this is a lot easier than I thought it would be." Jim said.

"Perhaps, however, this is just the crew." Spock replied, turning back to his meal, "it will be much different at the Federation Summit on New Vulcan."

" _The what_?"

....

"' _Time to get suited and booted! The location of this year's Insterstellar Federation Festival and Galactic Gala has been changed. This year's destination is set to take place in Shi'Kahr, New Vulcan rather than Andoria.'_ What in the fresh hell is this?" Jim slammed the PADD down onto his desk, turning to Admiral Komack on the computer screen.

"Just easier for everyone," Komack shrugged, "you'll be bringing the Vulcan delegation back to New Vulcan, most attending ambassadors are geographically closer to New Vulcan, and a lot of starships will be in close enough range to attend. Lot less hassle than hauling our asses halfway across the quadrant to Andoria."

"Except that it was agreed for _months_ that Andoria was going to host. Why the hell would you even think this is a good idea? New Vulcan is gonna be swarming with double the amount reporters and paparazzi and they're gonna terrorise my crew and -" Jim paused mid-rant, his face morphing into something resembling a scowl, "and will give you a great opportunity to boost that publicity you've been complaining about a lack of."

Komack had the nerve to feign innocence. "I have no idea what you mean, Kirk."

"You know exactly what I mean. You changed the location to New Vulcan because that's where my crew are gonna be. They're supposed to be on shore leave, Admiral. How are they supposed to relax while being hounded by maniacs with cameras?"

"They can enjoy shore leave. There will a security rotation between the starships - I'll send all the captains a roster when it's complete - and your crew will have one no-fuss security shift while in orbit. A few hours max."

Jim was not convinced. He had promised his crew a chance to relax.

"Listen, I know, it's stressful." Komack said and Jim very much doubted he understood. This meant that Jim was going to have to spend hours changing the shore leave roster to accommodate the recent developments. "That's why I will personally organise the accommodation and the shore leave rota for your crew."

"You will?" Jim asked. That was... generous. And it did mean less stress for him while he dealt with the Vulcan delegation onboard. It was tempting.

"I will. You send me names and I'll set your crew up in the best accommodation on Vulcan and organise their schedules. I did used to be a captain, I know how it works."

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. But wouldn't that seem like favouritism to other ships?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them." Komack said, and added, "consider it a personal favour from behalf of the admiralty for your and Spock's co-operation with us."

Jim felt his inital irritation begin to dissipate until he finally conceded with a sigh. "Fine."

"Great! Don't look so down, kid, these social events are great for morale! There's a gala to kick it off and there are conventions and seminars throughout the week. At least now they'll have something to actually _do_ on Vulcan. I mean the place isn't exactly known for it's nightlife and clubs."

"I guess." Jim said, collapsing down into his chair. "I'll send the shore leave requests your way."

"I'll have it organised before you know it. Komack out."

Jim slumped further into his chair as ths screen went black, unwilling to get up and share the news with the bridge. He sighed again, running a hand over his face.

It wouldn't be so bad, not really. They would have one shift patrolling the area and guiding ambassadors' ships to the designated zones. It was mostly just mind-numbingly boring to sit around doing nothing.

Getting up, Jim straightened out his uniform as he left his ready room and made his way to the bridge.

"So, as you are all probably aware, the Federation Summit-Gala thing's location has been changed to New Vulcan for convenient geographical benefits apparently," Jim began as he took his seat in the center, opening up a ship-wide channel and swivelling around in a circle to capture the mood on the bridge, "I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

"Better start with the bad. Only way is up from then." Sulu replied, and there was a general murmur of agreement from around him.

"Very well. Shore leave has been cut down a day due to the fact that we will have patrolling duty for a day." Jim announced and there was an audible groan from on the bridge. "I know, I know," he consoled, "but the good news is that no one has to worry about accommodation as it will be organised for us. We will be hooked up with the best of the best. The crème de la crème, if you will."

The mood lifted immediately.

"How'd you manage that, Captain?" Lieutenant Ramirez asked.

"Suppose admiralty just felt bad about dumping nothing but patrol and taxi missions on us these last few months." Jim lied smoothly, internally grateful that the news had lifted the mood. "Lucky us."

"If you're lucky enough they can land you with the honeymoon suite, Captain." Sulu said, earning him laughter from the bridge crew.

If the helmsman weren't so damn good at his job, Jim would have fired him for all of the jabs he was making at his captain. Still, Sulu was awfully good at lightening the dull moods on the bridge so maybe he could stay.

"That's it. Starstruck Daily is banned on this ship." Jim ordered, with no real malice or authority and another laugh erupted from the crew.

"You cannot prohibit any literature outlet pertaining to news, Captain," Jim swivelled around in his chair to see Spock stepping out of the turbolift and making his way to his station as he added, "which, albeit rarely, Starstruck Daily does contain."

"You're fired, Spock." Jim said with exaggerated frown, feeling betrayed.

"Noted, Captain." Spock said, not missing a beat as he began to take note of the readings on his console, ignoring the laughter of the officers around him. Jim couldn't help the grin that broke out on his face.

"Fine. Starstruck Daily is no longer banned due to Spock being a giant nerd who has to follow regulations all the time and doesn't like me getting my way," Jim conceded as he turned back to the view screen. Chekov was pink in the cheeks from barely contained laughter and Sulu was hiding his own amusement behind his hand.

Jim threw a quick glance back at Spock, only to see the tiny upturn at the corners of his mouth as the Vulcan focused on his work, scribbling things in his PADD. A happy feeling settled in Jim's gut, which he quickly put down to just seeing his crew so merry, and he ignored the way his heart stuttered in his chest every time his eyes found themselves wandering back to his First Officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the Vulcan delegation and arriving on New Vulcan (hopefully)! That's where the story really starts so that chapter should be up soon :)
> 
> Also lmk about any spg mistakes and also if you see any words bracketed by two forward-slashes (/like this/) - they're just a few editing issues I might have missed
> 
> Anywho, thank you for reading and I hope you're enjoying so far!


	3. Chapter 3

"This goddamn thing is stranglin' me." McCoy grumbled, fidgeting with the collar of his dress uniform. Jim would have agreed with the doctor if he weren't so busy trying to reconnect his own cufflinks, letting out a myriad of frustrated curses through clenched teeth as they once again failed to clasp.

"Whoever designed these dress uniforms can go straight to - aha!" Jim whooped as he correctly adjusted his sleeve. Finally, he thought and breathed a sigh of relief. He really did hate dress uniforms in all of their needlessly complicated glory.

"All this nonsense just to meet some Vulcan crowd." McCoy shook his head, looping his finger through his collar and tugging at it. "Least there's free alcohol."

"No getting drunk in front of the Vulcans, Bones." Jim ordered, only half kidding. An open bar on a starship full of bored officers? A recipe for disaster. Jim found it amusing how just a few short years ago _he_ would have been one of the officers looking forward to getting hammered. How times had changed.

"I know, I know," McCoy sighed and then mimicked in air-quotations, "'best behaviour'. I'll be good. Seven drinks, max."

"Seven drinks seems a bit excessive for a formal reception." Jim frowned.

"You know what? It's true what they say." McCoy said, and at Jim's questioning look, "couples really do start to act alike. You sound just like Spock."

Before Jim could respond to the comment, the door to his office opened with a hiss and said Vulcan stepped inside, wearing his own decorated dress uniform.

"Speak of the devil," McCoy muttered under his breath with a faint smirk as he once again tried to adjust his collar.

"Captain, Doctor." Spock greeted, "the Vulcan dignitaries shall be arriving in approximately fifteen minutes. We are due to meet them in the shuttlebay."

"Oh," Jim blinked, "we must have lost track of time. These damn uniforms are a nightmare to put on. Takes forever trying to get all the fastings."

"Indeed," Spock replied, his eyes falling to Jim's wrist, where the captain's cufflinks had once again come loose. Jim let out a frustrated groan, damning whoever designed the uniforms.

"Not again," he whined, "why is my uniform the only one that seems to ever have issues? I bet the quartermaster does it on purpose. That man has it in for me because of all those times I ripped my shirt."

"I very much doubt that. Here," Spock said, holding out his hand, "I will fix it for you."

"Thanks, Spock," Jim said, unsure of why his breath suddenly caught in his throat as he held out his sleeve for the Vulcan to fix. Maybe McCoy wasn't exaggerating about those collars being too tight after all.

McCoy glanced between the two of them, eyes lingering on Spock's hands for a second too long and his eyebrow rising towards his hairline. "Well, Spock, since you're offerin', I wouldn't mind a little help with this collar."

Spock's eyes flickered to the doctor briefly, clearly unimpressed.

Jim rolled his eyes, fighting back a laugh. "So, Spock, do you know any of the dignitaries coming aboard?"

"I do," Spock replied, as he fastened his cuff. "Ambassador Tepak is a close colleague of my father."

"Yeah? What's he like?"

Spock paused to consider. "I suppose the most adequate way to describe him would be a man of indomitable spirit. He is a very authoritative figure, even by Vulcan standards. That is partially why he is the Vulcan Ambassador to Kronos."

Jim gave a low whistle as Spock let his hand go, where his cuff was now firmly clasped together with no sign of coming loose.

"He must be one scary son of a bitch if he's buttin' heads with Klingons for a living." McCoy commented as they made their way out of Jim's office towards the shuttle bay.

"He is often percieved as such, however, he is not a cruel man." Spock said as they stepped in the turbolift. "He is one of the few Vulcans who argued strongly in my favour of my parent's union and also for my admission into the Vulcan Science Academy."

"And what about the others?"

"Elder Solak is the head of the Vulcan Science Academy. The last time we encountered one another was at my final admissions interview for the Academy." Spock was silent for a short moment, "it was not a positive meeting. Solak tends to share the more conservative views of my species."

"So he's a xenophobe." Jim concluded, a protective feeling flaring up within him as the turbolift doors opened and they entered the shuttlebay, where engineering officers were running around trying to organise last minute preparations. The Vulcan dignitaries would arrive in a few short minutes. Spock didn't answer Jim's question as the trio made to stand by the door, quickly joined by Scotty. Security personnel formed a line as the shuttle door opened and the Vulcan entourage began to emerge. Jim stood up straight as the Vulcans made their way to them.

"How does that Vulcan salute go again?" McCoy asked. Spock held up his hand and demonstrated the ta'al perfectly. McCoy fidgeted with his hand for a minutes and held up a rather deformed looking ta'al (which Jim was sure would get him punched on Orion if he repeated it). McCoy looked at his own hand and then Spock's. "That hurts worse than the uniform."

Jim felt a grin forming on his face at his friends' behaviour and he quickly morphed it into a friendly smile as the Vulcans approached. It was a group of eight Vulcans, ranging in age. Three older Vulcans and five younger.

"Captain James Kirk," Jim introduced himself with a nod, holding up a half-hearted attempt at the Vulcan salute before gesturing to his crew, "my First Officer, Commander Spock, my Chief Medical Officer, Doctor McCoy, and our Chief Engineer, Commander Scott. Welcome aboard the Enterprise."

An older man stepped forward. He was tall, his dark skin lined with age, and rather than the familiar bowl cut Jim was used to, his black curls were coiled tightly to his head. His face was solemn and his dark eyes piercing, and an extremely authoritative aura surrounding him.

"Captain Kirk." The Vulcan greeted, his voice a deep rumble as he returned the ta'al, "I am Ambassador Tepak." He gestured to a younger man behind him, who dutifully stepped forward with his own ta'al, "my aid, Srall."

Jim briefly followed him with his eyes as he stepped aside and a different Vulcan stepped forward. He was shorter than Tepak, his skin fare and his grey hair was sporting the traditional Vulcan bowl cut. He did not radiate the same pleasant vibes that Tepak had, and Jim didn't have to guess who he was.

"I am Elder Solak." He greeted curtly, voice devoid of any emotion but the nasal tone made Jim feel a twitch of irritation, "my aid, Soltan." Another Vulcan man stood forward with a ta'al and Jim saw Spock straighten up out of the corner of his eye. His face remained friendly at the younger Vulcan. He appeared to be the same age as Spock but with Vulcans Jim always found it hard to tell. Suspicions rose within Jim as the two stepped aside and an old woman introduced herself.

"I am Chief Healer T'Lesa." She introduced in a gravelly tone, "my aid, T'San. Our security officers, T'Luvek and Salaas. You honour us with your hospitality and service, Captain. We thank you."

"Please, the honour is ours, Healer." Jim said with his usual diplomatic balm, "welcome aboard. We hope your journey with is safe and comfortable. We have officers prepared to take you on a tour of the ship and show you to your quarters. The reception is later this evening at twenty-two-hundred hours. For the duration of your journey, please do not hesitate to contact myself or Commander Spock personally with any queries."

There was a collective nod from the group and Jim gestured for them to follow the waiting officers lined up by the entrance. Once they were out of sight, Jim heaved out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding.

"That went well." Jim prompted, leading the way out. Spock and McCoy followed, and Scotty disappeared back to the bowels of the ship with a quick wave.

"Indeed, Captain." Spock said, his tone flat, "well done."

Jim glanced at him to see amused glint in his eyes.

"Shut up, Spock," Jim shoved him playfully as they exited the shuttlebay. "Could have been bad - like that time on Delta Five. You remember the one? When you -"

"Shut up, Jim." Spock interrupted, mimicking Jim's own words as he elbowed him lightly. "If I recall correctly on Starbase Two, _you_ were the one who -"

"Oh, you wanna go there?" Jim asked, his tone light and challenging, "I think we _all_ remember just what happened on Yulta..."

McCoy shook his head as he followed them down the corridor, rolling his eyes as he listened to them bicker like an old married couple.

 

*

 

The formal reception (which the crew took as code words for party) was in full swing when Jim arrived. Usually there would be officers bustling around the already crowded room but many had signed up for shore leave on the starbase and were currently enjoying their limited time off the ship. It left the reception with considerably less than crew than usual but Jim supposed that the lack of crowds was a benefit, given who their guests were.

Jim glanced around the room and spotted Spock in a far corner engaged in a conversation with Tepak. Jim approached them, grabbing a drink from a table he passed and eased himself in between them.

"Ah, Captain, we were just speaking about the summit." Spock said as a way of bringing him up to speed. "There have been some complaints about the recent change in location."

"Oh?" Jim enquired politely as he took a sip of his drink. He frowned. It was sparkling water. He hated sparkling water. Hiding his disappointment, he focused back onto the conversation with a curious look.

"Indeed." Tepak continued, "the Andorian minister has objected, citing numerous preparation and organisation issues. His arguments are not without merit, however, he was overruled by the Federation Council."

"Yeah, I was surprised at the sudden change of venue as well." Jim admitted, tracing his thumb over the rim of his glass, "but I suppose New Vulcan _is_ a more convenient location. It means more people can attend and you know what they say - the more, the merrier."

"I doubt there will be many merry Andorians." Spock commented dryly and Jim couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"No, I suppose not, Mr. Spock." Jim smiled, eyes soft as he gazed at the Vulcan. "But still, we'll be there and we'll have a blast together, right?" He clapped him on the shoulder, his hand lingering long enough to catch Tepak's interest. Jim and Spock seemed to realise that simultaneously and Jim made to remove his hand before he remembered the whole situation they had gotten themselves into. Damn Komack.

Jim allowed his hand to linger longer than was probably social acceptable for both Vulcans _and_ humans. Spock didn't react.

"Do you plan on attending any seminars this week, Ambassador? Spock and I," Jim gave the Vulcan's shoulder a light squeeze for emphasis, "have planned on attending a few together - the history seminar on détente between the Federation and the Klingon Empire is supposed to be interesting."

"I hope to attend several, yes." Tepak replied, "perhaps I shall see you at the Convention for the Diminution in Dilithium?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Jim said with a smile even he had absolutely no idea there even was a convention on dilithium. Or that they wanted to reduce it. How else were they gonna fly ships? On a highway made of mushrooms? Yeah, right.

"I look forward to seeing you both there," Tepak said in parting words as he was drawn into another conversation by some ambitious ensigns. Jim dropped his hand from Spock's shoulder.

"We had no intention of going to the dilithium convention, Captain." Spock said once the older Vulcan was out of hearing range.

"And we will not." Jim assured him, "I was being conversational."

"But what if Tepak actually expects to meet us there?" Spock asked. Jim momentarily pictured him as an anxious child overly concerned with manners and breaking the rules, which Spock technically was - minus the anxious and the child.

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." Jim shrugged with a lazy smile. Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim was about to tell Spock that (ironically) he worried too much sometimes but the Vulcan's attention was caught by something else across the room. Jim followed his gaze to find that that something was actually _someone_ that was approaching them. The Vulcan man from earlier - the Ambassador's aid. Jim tried to recall his name. Selak? Solan? Solar? Sural?

"Srall." Spock said as the Vulcan stopped a short distance away from them. Close enough, Jim shrugged to himself.

"Spock." The Vulcan greeted with a nod. The two Vulcans stared at one another, creating a decidedly odd atmosphere and Jim felt like announcing himself or slowly taking a step back to leave them to it. He opted for the latter. Except he stumbled into something quite solid as he backed away.

"Hey, kid." McCoy interrupted, his voice slurred at little, clearly drunk. Or at least definitely on his way there. Jim rounded on him.

"I thought we agreed on seven drinks, max." He admonished.

"We did. But them -" McCoy hiccoughed, "them Vulcans have some pretty strong stuff. Didn't even make it past three, kid."

Jim resisted the urge to sigh. And also maybe laugh. "Here," he said, shoving his glass into McCoy's hand, "time to sober up, Bones."

McCoy nodded and took a large gulp from the glass and then almost immediately spit it all back out, features drawn together in absolute disgust. "This is sparklin' water!"

Jim grimaced as McCoy shoved the glass back into his hand and he quickly deposited it onto a nearby table. "Thanks for that, Bones." He said with a touch of sarcasm as he discreetly wiped his hand on his pant leg.

"Has you so down, kid? Is is that Vulcan movin' in on your man?" McCoy asked, nodding in Spock's direction.

"No, it's because I said no getting drunk and you - wait, _what?_ " Jim spun on his heel. Spock was now talking with Srall, who stood closer now that Jim was no longer in the picture.

"I'm kiddin'." McCoy laughed, clapping Jim on the back good-naturedly. Jim wasn't so sure. He stepped closer to them, McCoy on his heels, so they were within listening range and Jim did everything to he could to convince himself that, no, he was not _eavesdropping_ , he was merely rejoining a conversation without the others' knowledge.

Jim stared at the stranger. His skin was tan, his bowl cut an inky black, and his a piercing eyes a dark brown, almost onyx. By Vulcan standards he was practically crowding into Spock's personal space. Jim decided to cut in.

"- your opinion piece was very well argued and a fascinating perspective." Srall was saying, "I found it very enlightening."

"Didn't we all," Jim asked, coming to stand between them and completely unaware of any opinion piece. "That's our Spock for ya, resident genius on the Enterprise, he is."

"Resident pain in my ass," McCoy mumbled and then laughed to himself. Jim elbowed him sharply. What the hell had he even been drinking? Jim and the Vulcans ignored his comment.

"Indeed." Srall said, eyes solely on Spock, "he was always in the top zero-point-one percent at the Vulcan Learning Centre when we were children."

"Oh, so you were friends at school?" Jim prompted.

"Not quite." Srall replied, "due to the structure of Vulcan primary education we rarely interacted, however, I always admired his work effort and persistence."

Was Jim hallucinating or were the tips of his ears green? He glanced back at Spock for a second and then back at Srall.

"I must depart now. Live long and prosper." Srall held the ta'al.

"Peace and long life. If you are not busy perhaps I can show you some of the research we are currently conducting in the labs." Spock offered, mirroring his ta'al.

"That would be most welcome. Thank you." Srall said before leaving, briskly walking back to Ambassador Tepak, his cheeks definitely tinted green.

"Who was that homewreckin' hussy?" McCoy asked, voicing exactly what Jim was thinking.

"Srall," Spock replied, "we attended school together as children. Please define 'homewrecking hussy' and it's significance."

"A homewrecker is someone who's blamed for the break-up of a marriage or long-term relationship, especially as a result of having an affair with one of the partners." Jim explained while McCoy cackled gleefully.

"I do not understand why Doctor McCoy would refer to Srall as a homewrecker." Spock replied, looking genuinely confused.

"Well because we're suppose to be dating." Jim explained as if it were obvious. At Spock's clueless expression, Jim asked with a touch of incredulity, "you really didn't notice? Oh, come on, it's _so_ obvious."

"Notice what, Captain?"

"Notice that he's carryin' the torch for ya, Spock, that pointed-ear sucker want to play back-seat bingo." McCoy supplied, not at all helpful because Spock just looked even more clueless and Jim was debating wether or not he would need Uhura to start translating McCoy's southern babbling.

Spock turned to Jim, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"It _means_ ," Jim explained, "that he has a crush on you. Infatuated, you could even say. And from the way he was talking about your 'work effort' at school," he said the words with air quotations, "seems like he has been for a while. Poor guy probably has the worst of blue balls in history. Or would it be green balls?" Jim turned to McCoy.

McCoy narrowed his eyes. "I didn't go through fifteen years of med school for this."

"My point," Jim continued, turning back to Spock, "is that he _likes_ you."

"I see." Spock replied. His face was blank and he didn't appear to have anything else to say on the matter. Jim rolled his eyes - trust Spock to be completely oblivious about that kind of thing.

_"Bridge to Captain Kirk"._

Uhura's voice rang out from the intercom on the wall, interrupting their conversation. Jim shared a look with Spock as they approached it.

"Kirk here. What's the problem, Lieutenant?" Jim inquired.

_"We're receiving a distress call from the surface of the Starbase, sir. It's not marked priority but Administrator Mabel requires your presence at your earliest opportunity."_

"I'll beam down and see what the problem is. Thank you, Lieutenant. Kirk out." Jim shared another look with Spock.

"A non-priority distress call?" Spock questioned, eyebrow raised.

"Let's see what this is all about. Spock, with me. Bones," Jim paused and took in McCoy's lightly swaying frame, "with someone sober."

 

*

 

"Captain Kirk! Commander Spock!" Administrator Mabel greeted, shaking Kirk's hand nervously as soon as he materialised on the transporter pad. "Well, am I glad to see you!"

"And why would that be?" Jim questioned, stepping off the pad. "You issued a non-priority distress call."

"I think it best if you just follow me, Captain." Mabel said anxiously, wringing his hands together and turning on his heel. Jim and Spock followed while the seemingly anxious man was muttering (to them or himself, Jim didn't know), "out of my jurisdiction, it is" and "not anticipated".

The walk to his office was short, and once they were inside Jim saw the problem.

"Commander Kolak." Jim said flatly and the Klingon in question rose from the chair he had been sitting in. Administrator Mabel circled around the room to safety behind his desk, practically circumventing Kolak's first officer.

"My dear Captain Kirk." Kolak greeted, his tone snide and his face contorted into a smirk. "How pleasant to see you. And of course, Mister Spock."

"I wish I could say the same," Jim replied, his tone pleasant despite his words. "Would you care to explain why you're here and also how since there are no Klingon ships in the area?"

"Shore leave, Captain." Kolak replied smoothly, "my crew is in need of shore leave and this starbase is the only one within range of our patrolling parameters."

"And your ship?"

"Parked, if you will, just outside the neutral zone. We requested to beam in to discuss shore leave rather than starting some spectacle by flying into Federation space."

" _Requested_? More like _ordered,_ " Mabel muttered scathingly at his desk.

Jim ignored him and instead turned to Spock for guidance. "What do you think, Spock?"

"They are too far away to call for backup if conflict occurs, Starbase Six  _is_ the only starbase in this area of the neutral zone, and under the terms of Federation-Klingon Armistice they can request shore leave on these conditions." Spock replied helpfully. "The decision ultimately falls to you, Captain, as you are the highest figure of authority. However, we leave tomorrow for New Vulcan."

"Thank you, Mister Spock," Kolak said with a smug expression, "I knew you'd see the logic in it."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Very well," he said, ignoring Mabel's outburst of "you can't be serious, Kirk!" and pressed on, "you may bring your ship into orbit and commence shore leave for your crew for one day only."

"How generous, Captain," Kolak replied blankly, smug expression gone and replaced with narrowed eyes.

"I will also be issuing a security team to monitor the starbase." Jim said as an afterthought.

"Is that really necessary, Kirk?"

Almost by instinct, Jim turned to Spock for his opinion. Kolak snorted and muttered something in Klingon to his First Officer, who laughed.

"Something wrong, Commander?" Jim asked.

"Of course not, Captain," Kolak said, his smile wolfish, "I do know how you trust Mister Spock's opinion, even more so seeing as you _are_ his... _plaything_."

"You have less than twenty hours on the surface, Commander." Jim said flatly, choosing to ignore the comment, "better hurry before I change my mind."

"Captain, Commander," Kolak said in departing, his silent first officer following him out of the office.

"Kirk, what the hell? We can't have Klingons roaming around the station!" Mabel started as soon as the door swished shut.

"Yes, we can." Jim said as he made to leave, gesturing for Spock to follow. "I'll have a security team beamed down and they'll report to you. There'll be no trouble on this station while we're in orbit and Kolak's ship will be gone before we are."

Mabel clearly wanted to argue on the matter but Jim was determined and Mabel was notorious for his timid personality. With a final look, Jim swept out of the room with Spock in tow.

The starbase's environmental controls were programmed for a warm summer evening and Jim was more than happy to take his time and take in the summer heat as they walked back to their beaming point. In fact, he decided to take a detour to grab a coffee on his way there - an honest to god actual coffee, none of that bitter replicated sludge.

"We must head back to the ship, the reception for the Vulcan delegation is still ongoing." Spock reminded him as Jim walked in the opposite direction of the transporter room.

"We'll only be a few minutes, Spock, _please_ ," Jim pleaded, knowing the Vulcan would give in, "we'll just say the meeting ran a little longer. Plus I'm exhausted and I need caffeine."

Which was exactly how they ended up cramped together on a tiny couch in a local coffeehouse, Jim wearing a smug grin as the waitress took his order and Spock looking less than pleased as Jim ordered him a tea.

"That was an interesting discussion with the Klingons." Spock began after their drinks arrived.

"I know," Jim said, nursing a steaming latte, "why am  _I_  the plaything?"

"That is not what I was referring to."

"Oh," Jim took a sip of his latte, relishing the taste of fresh coffee and making a mental note to brag about it to McCoy later, and said, "then I don't know what you're talking about."

Jim could've sworn the Vulcan sighed beside him, felt the deep exhale from where Spock was wedged in beside him on the couch.

"It was _interesting_ ," Spock explained, finally picking up his neglected tea from the coffee table in front of them, "that the Klingons of all people would be aware of our supposed relationship. It would imply that they too have been reading Starstruck Daily."

"So the Klingons like to keep up on the latest gossip. So what?"

Jim definitely heard Spock sigh this time. He took another sip of his coffee to hide his smile.

"It raises the question of _why_ the Klingons have been reading Starstruck Daily of all things."

"I mean, it _is_ one of the biggest news sources in the federation," Jim replied, not overly concerned about Spock's suspicions. 

"The Federation and the Klingon Empire have been at peace since the war and the treaty." Spock continued, "why would they suddenly be interested in Federation 'gossip' at the time of a summit?"

Jim placed a comforting hand on Spock's knee, and said firmly, "Spock, baby, you're looking too much into this."

"I do not - _baby?_ " Spock said, easily distracted for possibly the first time in all of the years Jim had known him.

"Yeah, my new nickname for you. Honey lost it's sweetness." Jim explained happily, sipping his coffee again.

"I am not an infant." Spock said flatly.

"You act like one sometimes."

"Then perhaps I should start calling you princess," Spock retorted, "since you act like one sometimes."

"Prin - I do not!" Jim snapped.

"No, of course not," Spock replied, taking a sip of his tea, "princess."

Before Jim could rebut the name with some well-chosen words at Spock's expense, a voice interrupted.

"Well, isn't this adorable? How often do you get the chance for an off-ship date?"

They both looked up to see a woman with lilac skin standing above them, typing something into her PADD. Her platinum-white hair was pulled into a ponytail so tight Jim was surprised she could move the muscles in her face to give them the polite smile that she did. A stylus was tucked carelessly behind her ear and glasses sat perched on her nose. She tapped her PADD expectantly.

"Uh - what?" Jim asked dumbly, floundered.

"So what's the special occasion? Date night? Anniversary?" The woman asked, tapping her PADD again.

"Uh - what?" Jim repeated before shaking hinself and demanding, "who are you?"

"Rit'zu Zwale-ek."

 _Rit'zu Zwale-ek._ Jim frowned. That was familiar. Why was that familiar? Where had he heard that name before? Rit'zu Zwale-ek. Wait. Jim paused. _Rit'zu Zwale-ek?_ As in -

"The journalist from Starstruck Daily." Spock replied to her before Jim could. Yes! She wrote the article! The article that had gotten them into this whole mess in the first damn place.

"The one and only." She replied with a bright smile. "So, your date?"

Jim didn't replied immediately and she frowned, tapping her PADD impatiently. Jim felt like snapping it in half. "Why would you think this is a date?"

She threw a disbelieving glance around the room before typing something into her PADD. Subtly, Jim also glanced around the room. There were a few people and Spock seemed to realise something before Jim did, if the stiffening of his posture was anything to go by. At the far end Jim saw a younger couple making out and - oh, _gross_ , they were really going at in the back - so Jim averted his eyes and watched two older people, Catian, Jim noted, who sat with their tails entwined, and, oh, there was Ensign O'Connor who seemed to be sharing a milkshake with - oh. _Oh._

Jim felt his stomach sink. They were surrounded by _couples_.

Maybe McCoy was right about Jim - maybe he was lucky he was pretty.

How could he have been so blind as not to notice he had led Spock into lovebirds central? All for the sake of a single cup of coffee. Damn his caffeine needs.

"So?" Rit'zu pressed, and there was that damn _tap, tap, tap_ of her nails on the PADD again.

"No comment." Jim replied and took another sip of his coffee.

"Ooh, interesting." She murmured to herself as she typed away into her PADD. "Anything you'd like to say, Mister Spock?"

"No," Spock replied, blunt in that way that he often was with strangers. Jim felt a smile tugging on his features as he turned to the Vulcan. It was short lived, however, when he heard a click followed by a brief but blinding white light. She had taken their picture.

"Well, good talk, thanks for your time. I'll see you soon." And just like that Rit'zu Zwale-ek was, no pun intended, gone in a flash.

"This cannot end well." Jim said with a resigned acceptance of fate and took a sip of his coffee.

Spock only nodded beside him.

 

*

 

The two day trip to Vulcan was a _long_ one. One, due to the presence of the Vulcan dignitaries. Two, due to the stress of pretending to date his XO. And finally three, due to the brand-spanking-new article published in Starstruck Daily.

_**COFFEE DATES & SECRET MATES** _

"Pretty catchy title," Sulu mumbled through a mouthful of pasta.

"You went out for coffee and didn't even consider gettin' some for the rest of us?" McCoy asked, eyes narrow and accusing.

Jim ignored them both and stared down at his PADD. Splashed across the front was the picture Rit'zu Zwale-ek had taken of them. Jim had to admit it that it was a good photo - the way he was smiling at Spock made him look, well, positively  _starstruck_.

"Why is it always me?" Jim asked, "why couldn't it be about you and Scotty or Sulu and his weird fetish for plants?"

"Could be worse." McCoy replied as Sulu spluttered, "I do not have a fetish for plants!"

"I guess." Jim shrugged. "Do you think Vulcans read Starstruck Daily?"

"Why? Did those delegates say something?"

"No but that poor Srall guy has been wandering around looking like kicked puppy since yesterday."

"How can you even tell?" Sulu asked.

Whether or not they had read it (although Jim had his suspicions that they most definitely had) they made no comment and for that Jim was thankful. Unlike the Vulcans, the crew had no reservations about discussing the article - even more brazenly than before as the evidence grew. They had neither confirmed nor denied but a well-worded suggestion (threat, really) from Komack told them to get a move on.

It was just a lot more difficult than Jim had initially thought it was going to be. Would it change how people looked at them? Would if affect their relationship with the crew? Would it, as McCoy had rightly asked, affect their normal relationship? The questions loomed at the back of his mind every time he was around Spock. He wondered if the Vulcan had the same concerns. How were they going to pull it off?

Jim sighed, placing the PADD down on the table before unceremoniously dropping his own head down beside it. "What am I gonna do?" He mumbled, cheek squashed against the flat surface of the table, "how are we supposed to tell people we're together without it being weird?"

A fork clattered loudly on the table beside his head followed by a silence, neither McCoy nor Sulu - _Sulu!_

Jim's head snapped up to see Sulu watching him with a slack jaw, eyes wide in disbelief. Sulu didn't know. How did Jim forget that Sulu didn't know.

"I think you just did, Jimmy." McCoy smirked at him.

"You're - _you're actually dating Spock?_ " Sulu questioned. The helmsman had a look in his eyes. A look that Jim recognised far too well. The _I need to tell Chekov_ look. Chekov, the most social officer on the ship and possibly the biggest gossip in the quadrant.

Oh, this was... actually _not_ a bad thing (for once). If Chekov was going to find out then the whole crew was undoubtedly going to find out. And Chekov _was_ the most trustworthy source of information on the ship. It could save Jim and Spock from having to announce it themselves.

"Well," Jim said with a feigned sigh, "I guess the cat's outta the bag now."

Jim could see the gears turning in Sulu's head, could see the twitch in his fingers as he struggled not to snatch up the PADD and send Chekov the news.

"That's, um, good - great, in fact," Sulu said, drumming his fingers on the table as he glanced around the room, thinking of a way to somehow tell Chekov. "I'm happy for you, man. Spock's a great guy."

"Why thank you, Sulu," Jim said with a big smile, and then too-conveniently, "oh, would you look at the time? We'll be arriving shortly and I want to speak the delegates before they leave. I'll be seeing you."

Jim got up to put his tray in the recycle and was out of his seat for no less than two minutes. When he turned back Sulu was gone, probably having bolted out of the mess as soon as Jim turned his back. Jim grinned. He could always rely on his crew.

"You sure you know what you're doing, kid?" McCoy asked as Jim sat down again. Technically he did want to speak with the Vulcans and say his goodbyes but he had plenty of time to do so.

"Bones, I've never been so unsure of anything in my entire life and I once drove a car off of a cliff." Jim said. "Still, what's the worst that could happen? A few articles here, a few pictures there. A journalist or two badgering us for the week. No big deal."

McCoy just sighed and shook his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "idiots".

 

*

  
"Well, Spock, ready to go?" Jim asked, heaving his bag over his shoulder.

"I have been ready for fifteen minutes, Captain," Spock replied, picking up his own duffle bag from the floor beside him and walking towards the transporter. Everyone else had beamed down with the exception of a few who had chosen to remain on board. Jim and Spock were the last to beam down and Jim may have been running a little late as he joined Spock on the transporter pad.

"Let's do this," Jim grinned, and nodded to the Lieutenant who had chosen to remain on the ship and was manning the transporter controls, "Palmer, keep our silver lady safe."

"Aye, sir," Palmer said with a beam.

"Energise."

  
*

  
The first thing Jim saw when he materialised on the surface of New Vulcan was a bright flash of white. He blinked rapidly and heard yelling, shuffling, and neverending clicking as flash after flash of white light almost blinded him.

When he came to himself, he felt his heart stop in his chest as he saw the crowds of reporters and heard the shouts of his name, Spock's name, and most importantly:

" _Captain Kirk! What can you tell us about your relationship with Commander Spock?_ "

Yeah, Jim thought to himself, Komack was a dead man.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any SPG mistakes just let me know - editing was extremely anooying for this particular chapter so I may have missed out on a few things. Also I don't know why but this chapter feels a little rushed? Maybe it's just me being overly critical. Anyways, this is pretty much where the story really begins to kick off and hopefully the plot will start to thicken. I think I pretty much have the plot down so fingers crossed it's smooth sailing from here.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus! I've been so busy these last few that I didn't have a chance to just sit down and write. Anyways, just a warning: this chapter is almost 12k words long :)

The dazzling flashes of the cameras were almost blinding. Jim blinked rapidly to clear his vision and to take in his surroundings but everywhere he looked he saw a new face quickly followed by click and a bright flare of white. The onslaught had rendered him speechless as his eyes flickered across the crowd and the shouts of "Captain Kirk! Commander Spock! Captain Kirk!" were starting to become rather deafening.

Before he could truly assess the situation he felt a warm hand slide into his own and then Spock was tugging him away, leading the way past the crowd and into the privacy of the shuttleport. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and allowed himself to be dragged away, thankful to leave the scrutinizing eyes of the paparazzi before he said something he'd regret or cursed out James Komack on intergalactic television. He could practically feel the colourful choice of words on the tip of his tongue.

Spock didn't let go until they were inside the privacy of the shuttle port and the photographers' voice faded into silence. As they stopped, the words tumbled from Jim's mouth. 

"I'm gonna kill him, Spock! Kill him!" Jim snapped, his eyebrows furrowed in anger as he paced back and forth. His bag swung dangerously on his shoulder.

"You are understandably upset, however, I doubt mutiny will do very much to appease you." Spock replied, eyes scanning the crowds of people that were milling around the shuttle port lobby. Tourists, many with children clinging to their every limb, were hustling and bustling along with their suitcases, and uniformed workers shouldering their way through the masses, armed with PADDs and talking incessantly into their communicators.

"It might," Jim mumbled, adjusting his grip on his holdall bag and hiking it up further onto his shoulder into a more secure position. "You're not mad about this? At all?"

"Vulcans do not get mad." Spock replied disinterestedly, watching two Andorian children repeatedly shoving each other every time their father's back was turned.

Jim heaved a sigh, and dropped his bag - which, irritatingly, had subtly been slipping down his shoulder again - onto the ground, and plopped himself down right on top of it, elbows on his knees and head resting on his hands. "I'm gonna kick his ass." 

"May I suggest a strongly worded email instead?" Spock offered as an alternative, glancing back at Jim, clearly amused.

Jim felt some of his initial anger dissipate. Spock seemed to be taking everything in his stride. At least he wasn't threatening admirals. He guessed he would just have to get used to it. Still, the irritation lingered and Komack was in Jim's bad books for the remainder of their leave and possibly their entire commission. 

"Where are we staying again?" Jim asked, sinking further onto the floor. Completely undignified for a Starfleet captain but there were so many people bustling through the busy port that they barely spared the Captain and Commander a glance. He was also not the only person laying on the floor, as he could see a large group of what appeared to be students milling around half-asleep, using their bags and each other as cushions while they waited for their shuttle.

"The Diversorium Hotel in New Shi'Kahr." Spock replied, watching Jim splayed across the floor with a raised eyebrow.

"What time should we be there?" Jim's eyes flickered down to his watch - a gift from Spock for his birthday the previous year. It was an old-fashioned mechanical one, with little planets orbiting on its navy, star-studded dial and encased in a golden frame - just like the one he had always wanted as a kid. They were hard come by these days. He still had no idea how Spock managed to obtain one. It read three-thirty a.m. standard time, automatically adjusted to Vulcan's time zone.

"If you are ready to depart, we may leave now. It is a four hour journey by public shuttle."

Jim groaned, letting his head fall back onto his bag with a thump. Great - four hours of being accidentally hit with suitcases as people shuffled through the crowded shuttle. Wonderful. "We couldn't have just beamed directly into the city centre?"

"Unfortunately not. This shuttleport is the only one available for authorized transporting, particularly for large groups. The transporters in the city centre are typically for emergencies and special cases." Spock explained, "however, it may please you to know that I have hired a personal hovercar and that should shorten our journey by one-point-six hours."

Jim cracked one eye open. "You did?" He asked, a smile breaking out on his face.

"I thought you might prefer it, however, since you do not have a licence I will be driving." Spock said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder and stepping over Jim. He started to walk towards the exit.

"Oh, come on!" Jim scrambled off of the floor and onto his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder and jogging to catch up with the Vulcan. Drive a car off of a cliff once and suddenly you were never allowed to drive a car again. Ridiculous. He caught up with Spock, slowing his jog into a casual walk beside the Vulcan. "I know how to drive a hovercar, Spock."

"Be that as it may, you do not have a licence." Spock replied as they walked through the port. Jim shuffled closer to Spock as a particularly angry look Tellarite trudged by, narrowly avoiding a collision with the captain and commander. "I will drive."

"What if you drive for half and then I drive for half?"

"Unless you manage to somehow obtain a licence in one-point-two hours then the answer is no."

"Spock - I captain a starship. I know how to drive a simple hovercar."

"Jim." Spock said, his tone final. Jim resisted the urge to childishly reply "Spock" and elected to silently follow the Vulcan through the shuttleport.

 

*

 

"Can we turn on the radio?" Jim asked through a mouthful of potato chips. Spock wrinkled his nose a little (Jim knew how much he loathed people speaking with their mouths full) but acquiesced, flipping the station to something soothing but foreign to Jim. "Want one?" Jim offered, holding out the bag of selkra (he still wasn't entirely sure what it was but Spock had assured him he wasn't allergic) flavoured chips to Spock, shrugging when the Vulcan politely declined and instead kept his hands on the wheel.

Bored was an understatement to describe how Jim was feeling. They were halfway through their journey and Spock didn't know the rules to any roadtrip games, with the exception of eye spy, which he claimed not to like but was unusually good at during their short attempt to play it. Jim settled to watch out his window, but the never-ending view of the rustic sands flowing by them became boring after a while and Spock was still adamant that Jim would not be setting so much as a foot in the drivers' seat. That left Jim with quite literally nothing to do, having left his books and PADD in his shoulder bag, which was now locked in the trunk. Instead, he was left eating the snacks he forced Spock to buy from the store at the shuttleport and annoying the Vulcan in question with mundane questions, such as his favourite animal or his least favourite food.

"I'm bored, Spock." Jim complained for the fifth time in the last half hour, fiddling with the air conditioning dial once again.

"I am aware." Spock replied dryly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It was moments like this that reminded Jim that Spock was also half-human. He doubted many Vulcans drummed their fingers over steering wheels and it struck Jim that it was probably a habit the Vulcan had picked up from his mother. He looked to Spock and could imagine a younger version of him, chubby olive cheeks and his large brown eyes, chatting to his mother as they drove along the familiar sands of their home. Jim smiled at the image he had conjured and let his eyes drift back to Spock.

The Vulcan was focused on the road. The rising sun shone on them over the horizon, lighting Spock's usually dark eyes to a warm chocolate colour, with golden shards in his irises. His face was laced with the beginning of stubble, a shadow over his neck and jaw, and his black hair had begun to curl around at the edges due to the heat. It always did when they travelled to or explored a hot planet. Jim was, not for the first time, struck by how handsome Spock really was. His face was all sharp angles, with the exception of his eyes, which were soft and round, framed long, dark lashes. His skin had a healthy glow in New Vulcan's sun. The man really was easy on the eyes.

Speaking of eyes, Spock's were now looking directly at Jim and Jim just barely registered that Spock was speaking to him. Blinking, he realised he had been staring at the Vulcan for an unknown amount of time.

"Eyes on the road, Spock." Jim managed a lazy grin, cutting off whatever Spock had been saying with a exaggerated roll of his eyes, "and I'm supposed to be the lousy driver."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him and faced back to the front without a word, looking faintly amused. Jim felt his grin morph into something softer, a gentle smile directed at the unknowing Vulcan before he too allowed his eyes to drift back to the sandy road ahead.

"You sure you don't want one?" Jim asked, breaking the moment of silence as he held up a potato chip to Spock's face. The Vulcan tried to ignore it. "They're really good. I promise you'll like them." Jim nudged the corner of Spock's mouth with the chip and Spock's narrowed eyes briefly flicked to him. Jim gave him a hopeful look, nudging him with the chip again.

"Fine." Spock agreed and reluctantly opened his mouth for Jim to nudge the chip inside.

"Well?" Jim asked expectantly while Spock chewed slowly before swallowing. His face revealed nothing.

"They are bland in flavour," Spock replied, "and they have no nutritional benefits whatsoever."

"Yeah, pretty much," Jim mumbled cheerfully through another mouthful. "Speaking of bland - what's the deal with that Srall guy?"

"We attended the Vulcan learning centre together as children." Spock replied simply. "That is all."

"He seemed to like you. A lot." Did that sound... bitter? Jim thought for a second before dismissing the idea - it was ridiculous, why would he be jealous of Srall?

Spock gave a non-committal hum in response.

"Do you like him?" Jim asked, and then added, "romantically?"

"I do not really know him." Spock replied.

"That's not an answer." Jim said. 

Spock gave him a quick look before turning back to the road. "No, Jim. I have no romantic interest in Srall."

"Oh," was all Jim replied as he sank further back into his seat, a warm feeling settling in his chest as he watched the sandy landscape flash by. 

 

*

 

"Whoa, this place is huge." 

Jim heaved his bag out of the trunk of the car, distracted by the hotel that they had finally arrived at. He gave a low whistle. It was grand, built with white bricks and balconies framed with gold, tall gleaming windows everywhere he looked. He distinctly heard Spock slam the trunk shut as he admired the building. He had never seen anything quite so extravagant in his life. There was a fountain out front - a true testament to its extravagance given Vulcan's desert climate.

"It was initially built as temporary housing for Vulcans when they first settled on the colony," Spock said, which explained the sheer size of it, "however, as the colony developed and more homes were built it was repurposed as a hotel."

They walked slowly up the entrance, Jim admiring every detail of the hotel. They didn't make them quite like this back in Iowa. They were greeted by two serious looking Vulcans at the door, who greeted them with a ta'al and a very bored-sounding 'na'shaya'. Welcome, Jim remembered, nodding politely as they passed them through the doors while Spock returned the Vulcan salute.

"Hello." Jim greeted cheerfully as they reached the front desk, dropping his bag down beside his feet. The lobby was just as lavish as the exterior, perhaps even more so. All kinds of people walked around, from Vulcans to Caitians. Jim greeted crew members who had already settled in and were heading out sightseeing. 

"Greetings, Captain Kirk." The Vulcan, a severe looking woman with charcoal-black hair drawn so tightly into a bun it almost looked painful, greeted them courteously. "Commander Spock." She nodded politely in his direction. "Welcome to the Diversorium Hotel. I am T'Ra. How may I assist you today?"

"Reservation for James Kirk," Jim replied, "and uh, Shin Guy - Shci -"

"S'chn T'gai Spock." Spock offered helpfully. T'Ra merely gave an amused looking eyebrow raise before typing into her terminal.

"I need to work on my Vulcan, it seems." Jim laughed, nudging Spock gently with his elbow.

"You are on the top floor - the eight-third. You may take elevator eight and it will bring you directly up. Please allow me to retrieve your key cards." T'Ra excused herself from her desk and returned momentarily with two key cards. "Here you are," she offered each of them a key card, which they took, and explained, "there are maps of the hotel in every room and recreation rooms are marked clearly. You are welcome to make use of any of our facilities and meal times can be found on the room PADD. Enjoy your stay."

They replied with their thanks and navigated their way to elevator eight, where they met Sulu and Chekov waiting for elevator five.

"Hey, this hotel is something else, I'll tell you that much." Sulu commented as they waited on their respective lifts.

"You should see ze pool, it iz huge." Chekov added happily as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"I'll have to check that out, Chekov." Jim replied as he followed Spock into the elevator. "We'll see you tonight at the Gala opening."

The ride up was a short one, the elevator speeding through the floors faster than Jim could keep up with. They arrived at their floor with a ding and an automated announcement revealing their floor.

Jim glanced down at his key card. It read P-7890. He glanced at the door numbers as they walked along, following along until he reached the correct room. 

"Well, this is me." Jim announced. Spock was still standing beside him, face blank. "What are you waiting for? Your room is probably a little on down."

Spock had a blank look on his face as he replied, "this is my room."

"What?" Jim gave him a confused smile, holding up his key, displaying the number. "This is my room."

"This," Spock held up his own key card, that had P-7890 written clearly upon it, "is also my room."

“What" Jim repeated, snatching the card out of the Vulcan's hand and comparing the two as if expecting one to magically change. "They must have made a mistake with the booking. Komack must have -" Jim stopped dead before he growled out a quiet "Komack." 

Of course he had arranged all of this. Had probably offered to organise shore leave to ensure this outcome in order to maintain his charade.

"I'm gonna kill him. I mean it this time, Spock. He is currently a dead man walking." 

Spock didn't object this time.

"Well," Jim sighed, "looks like we're roommates for the next week or so."

"It appears so." Spock replied as Jim injected the key card into the slot in the handle and the door swung open. The room it revealed was massive. What appeared to be a king sized bed centred the room and it was decorated luxuriously with whites, golds, and deep reds. Shoes clacked against the marble floor as Jim took in his surroundings while Spock made to open the curtains. Bright light flooded the room and illuminated the darkest corners of it. There was an L-shaped white couch in the corner, complimented with a coffee table and two matching armchairs. A mahogany desk stood at the opposite corner. There was plenty of closet room and a door that led to the bathroom. It looked more like an open plan flat. The room was big enough that Jim hoped it would give them enough space to not be climbing the walls by the end of their leave.

His major concern, however, was the fact that there was only one bed. Admittedly it was a very large bed but there was still only one and the couch didn't look too comfortable the more he looked at it. He glanced at Spock, who was looking out the floor-to-ceiling window. It was still early in the morning but the suns had risen and were almost blinding. Dropping his bag on the right side of the bed, he walked around, fiddling with things as he did, such as the air conditioning and light dials.

Jim wandered into the bathroom. It too was spacious, completed with a toilet, sink, shower, and, surprisingly, a bathtub that looked large enough to fit at least three people into it. He ran his hands over the towels provided, noting how soft they were, and examined the complementary toiletries. He made his way back into the room to find Spock now standing on the balcony. He followed him out, leaning on the doorway. The balcony had identical white couches on it, as well as another coffee table.

"Nice room." He commented, "pretty enormous."

"It was originally designed to hold larger families," Spock replied, continuing to gaze out at the landscape before them, "it has now evidently been converted into some kind of presidential suite."

Jim could feel the heat just from where he was standing and relished the cool air billowing on his back from the inside air conditioning. The heat made him feel sluggish after all of their travelling.

"I'm gonna take a nap. Do you wanna grab something for breakfast, say around eight?" Jim asked, glancing at his watch. It was almost six-thirty a.m.

"Of course," Spock turned to him. "I will use the provided PADD to locate a suitable restaurant."

"T - t - thanks," Jim stuttered out a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck until he felt a satisfying pop. "Wake me in an hour. I'll grab a shower when I wake."

Spock just nodded and went back to observing the city below while Jim clambered back into the room. He dug through his bag for a pair of shorts and quickly kicked off his trousers to replace them. Shoving his trousers and socks back into his bag for the time being, he climbed into the bed and sank immediately into it's softness. Snuggling into his pillow, he almost missed Spock ordering the lights to fifteen percent for him and drawing the curtains, darkening the room.

"Thanks, Spock," he mumbled against his pillow, listening to the sound of Spock pattering around the room and drifting into an easy sleep.

 

*

Jim was almost startled when he woke up to hear the shower running in his room before the reality of the situation all came back to him. With a sigh, he threw his head back against the pillow. He checked his watch - it was seven-thirty a.m. He debated adding an extra ten minutes to his nap when the sound of the shower died down and Spock stepped into the room, hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. 

"I see you are awake." He commented as he walked across the room. 

"Yeah," Jim replied, dazed. Perhaps from such a short sleep, he concluded as he watched droplets of water roll down Spock's back as the Vulcan searched through his bag for toiletries.

It wasn't the first time he had seen the Vulcan shirtless, of course it wasn't - he had seen him on missions, at the gym - plenty of places and plenty of times. He had never really appreciated before how well Spock looked after himself. His arms and chest were all muscle, toned and taut and - 

And Jim was staring. He blinked and snapped his focus back to his watch. He needed a shower if he wanted to be ready on time for breakfast. Climbing out of bed, he rubbed his eyes and stretched again before shuffling to the bathroom, suppressing a yawn.

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower," Jim announced as he entered the bathroom but left the door unlocked in case Spock needed back in. He stripped down and stepped into the shower, changing the shower glass settings to an obscure blur that he could barely see out of for privacy. Sure enough, Spock followed him into the bathroom not a few minutes later. The sound of the running water almost diminished the sound of Spock brushing his teeth by the sink.

Sharing a bathroom back on the ship with their often clashing shift rotation meant that multitasking in the bathroom had practically become the norm. Brushing their teeth together before alpha shift, one showering behind the foggy glass while the other went about their usual routine. Jim sometimes entertained the idea that working on a confined ship minimized the importance of modesty, especially in the lower decks where ensigns actually shared rooms and not just bathrooms.

As the cool water ran over his heated skin, he was glad he had opted out of a sonic shower. There was just something about a water shower that made him feel more clean and fresh.

"Hey, did you find anywhere for breakfast?" Jim asked, sliding the shower door open a fraction to hear his answer. He continued to lather his hair in shampoo that had a sweet but unfamiliar scent while Spock was shaving.

"I did." Spock replied, carefully dragging a sharp blade down his foam covered jaw. "It is approximately a fifteen minute walk from our current location. It serves intergalactic cuisine."

"Oh, nice. Andorians have the best waffles in the whole Alpha Quadrant." Jim said, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair before lathering it in conditioner. "I see you're still using those razor blades," he called over the splashing of water. 

"I prefer them over the electronic or sonic razors." Spock replied as he dragged the blade down again.

"Right, because they irritate your skin." Jim recalled.

"And they leave a cleaner finish."

"I use a sonic. They're not that bad."

"They are not that good, either."

"What, are you saying you don't like my scruffy ragtag look?" Jim teased, popping his soapy head through the gap again, eyebrow raised in a weak imitation of the Vulcan.

"Not at all, Captain." Spock responded, wiping off any excess shaving cream from his face, "I merely do not wish to look like a 'ragtag'."

"I'm offended, Spock." Jim joked. "I think you should grow your stubble out. It looks good on you."

"Perhaps I will consider it, Jim." Spock humoured him as he placed his stuff back into his toiletries bag and moved it to the side of the sink.

"I hope you do." Jim replied as he doused his head in water again while Spock left to get dressed. It hit him a minute later and he found his eyes narrow. It looks good on you. I hope you do. Where the hell had that come from? 

Forcing the thought out of his head, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. After brushing his teeth and shaving as well, he entered the room to see Spock fully dressed. He was sitting on the couch reading from his PADD. 

"What's the weather like outside? You know, other than scorching." Jim asked, shifting through his bag to find his gym shorts.

"It is fifty-point-one-two degrees Celsius out. Dry." Spock answered without looking up from his PADD.

Jim internally groaned. He didn't mind hot weather - hell, in Iowa that they some pretty hot summers but fifty degrees? He was probably going to melt before the week was up.

"I'll be ready in a sec and then we can head out." Jim hurried into the bathroom to change, throwing on a pair of gym shorts that fell mid-thigh and a loose, thin t-shirt - essentially the lightest clothes he owned to cope with the New Vulcan heat. In the room, he pulled on his shoes and shoved a few tri-oxide hypos and sunblock, courtesy of McCoy, into his backpack and heaved it over his shoulder.

"Ready, Captain?" Spock stood up and made his way to the door.

"Got your key?" 

"Yes." 

"Then lead the way, Mister Spock."

 

*

The suns were beating down on them as they walked through the streets of New Shi'Kahr, and Jim was squinting as the brightness of the two suns was almost blinding this early in the day. Not only that, but Jim was also starving, and his growling stomach made Spock aware of that.

"The café is just along here." Spock pointed out the small building just a few feet further ahead.

"Thank god." Jim sighed in relief, allowing Spock to lead him to it. It was a cosy little place, with small circular tables with those large umbrellas providing shade to customers, surrounded by comfy looking wing armchairs sitting outside the building, and several customers chatting over their food or reading their PADDs. 

Spock guided them to one of the tables outside, with a large umbrella looming over it, and Jim collapsed into his chair, thankful for the shade and the cool breeze emanating from the open doors of the café, where there was an air conditioner swaying from side to side, distributing cool air to customers.

"What would you like to eat?" Spock asked, watching him, lips twitching at Jim, who was now heaving deep breaths and fanning himself with an actual old-fashioned menu.

"Surprise me." Jim replied breathlessly. Spock nodded, and disappeared into the café. Jim reluctantly heaved himself up into a more dignified position and rummaged through his bag for his tri-oxide hypo. He discreetly injected it into his arm and threw the empty hypo back into his bag. His breathing began to ease, and the air around him started to feel more bearable.

It was only then that Jim fully had time to appreciate the little café. Multicultural, Jim found was the best word to describe it. Soft, wing armchairs in a multitude of different colours, reminiscent of the ones found on Earth, a printed menu on the large window promoted their foods in several languages, and the food itself seemed to pan from Vulcan cuisine right up to Klingon. Two older Vulcans were having a discussion over a cup of spiced tea, a Catian was reading the news from their PADD, a steaming, fluorescent pink drink sitting in front of them, an Andorian waiter fluttered by the window, carrying a rattling tray of food, an Orion teenager with bubble-gum blue hair manned the checkout counter with a bright smile, and soft music, that Jim strongly suspected was Argelian, was playing quietly from somewhere. 

This place was sure to make a ton of business in the next two weeks as more and more guests arrived from all different quadrants of the galaxy.

Spock reappeared, placing a jug of water and two glasses on the table in front of Jim, who didn't hesitate to pour himself a glass and take a large, refreshing gulp.

"Our food should arrive shortly." Spock said, pouring himself a glass of water as he took his seat opposite Jim. 

"Great, I'm starving." Jim replied, taking another large sip of his water. "So, what do you wanna do today, baby?"

Spock gave him a blank look at the nickname that made Jim snicker. Yeah, he was totally sticking with that one.

"Well, princess," Spock emphasised the word quite clearly, causing the grin to slip from Jim's face (maybe he shouldn't stick with that one after all, if this was the consequence), "there is a museum of Vulcan history in the city centre."

"A museum, huh? Are there any zoos?"

"Yes. Perhaps there you can run amok with the other children."

"Ooh, someone's snappy today. Zoos are fun, okay? And they're educational." Jim replied, "besides, it can be our first fake date."

"Given that we have allegedly been together for six months, it would hardly be our first date."

"Not my fault you never take me on dates."

"We are not actually dating."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I am considering it."

"Ouch, Spock, that hurts. And I thought our relationship was progressing so well." Jim feigned a pout that quickly broke into a grin. "So the zoo?"

"Fine. We may go to the zoo."

"You're the best." Jim replied happily as their food arrived. There was quite a few plates. "You got me Andorian waffles." He noted, looking down from one of the plates back up to Spock.

"Yes. You said they were the best in the whole Alpha Quadrant." Spock replied, stirring a bowl of porridge with his spoon. "However," Spock began as Jim reached for his fork, "they have no nutritional value therefore you should eat them after you have had something substantial." He pushed an omelette towards Jim.

"I love a man that takes care of me." Jim commented as he pulled the plate towards him and began cutting up the omelette while Spock added some chopped up fruit to his porridge.

They initially sat in silence while they ate, the only sound was the chatter of the people surrounding them and the occasional rattling of cutlery and glass on table.

"How are you liking New Shi'Kahr so far?" Jim asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"It is," Spock paused, "different." 

"Good different or bad different?" 

"Just different." Spock replied vaguely. Vulcan would always be a sore topic for him, Jim knew, in more ways than one given his childhood. Jim just nodded in understanding as he pulled his waffles towards himself.

"Mmm, I don't know how Andorians do it," he mumbled, taking another bite of his waffle, "but they're doing something right. Here, Spock, you gotta try this." He scooped up a forkful for the Vulcan to taste.

Spock looked at the syrupy mess on Jim's plate with an apprehensive look before he reluctantly accepted a bite.

"It is sweet." He summarised and Jim rolled his eyes.

"Duh - it's a waffle." He said, "and don't act like you don't like sweet food. The only person with a bigger sweet tooth than you on the ship is Ensign K'mes, and that's because sugar is vital to her biology."

"I do not have a sweet tooth." Spock replied easily.

"You are such a liar. You seemed pretty keen on marshmallows at Joanna McCoy's ninth birthday."

After a short silence, Spock conceded a reluctant "perhaps."

Jim smirked at him before he returned to his waffles, bathing in his glory in a very non-subtle way. 

"Here," Jim said, holding up a forkful of waffle to prove his point, "have some more." His gloating, however, was cut short by a click followed by a flash. Jim snatched his hand back to himself and pulled himself around in his chair to glare at the source. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Rit'zu Zwale-ek lowered her camera and gave them a self-satisfied smile. "A Federation summit like this draws a lot of attention. It's my duty to report it."

"When has Starstruck Daily ever reported anything remotely related to political events."

"All the time - just last month we exposed the affair between President Velme of Ritoria and the Grand Duke Kronej of Vexa." Rit'zu replied confidently although with a hint of cheek.

"Fascinating," Jim replied blankly, to borrow a word from his First Officer.

"It was." Rit'zu said. 

"Well, as neither Spock or I are involved in any important political matters, why are you tailing us?" Jim questioned bluntly.

"Well, who doesn't a love a good romance to lighten the public mood?" Rit'zu replied, cheerfully ignoring Jim's annoyance. "Speaking of romance, do either of you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding -" 

His retort was cut short as Spock reached over and placed his hand on top of Jim's.

"Jim," the Vulcan said calmly, a determined look in his eye as he stared at Jim, "ashayam."

Ashayam. That was Vulcan endearment, right? Right. They needed to keep up appearances. Sighing, he conceded and swung back around in his seat to face Spock, whose hand was still atop his own.

"Fine." He ground out, "what do you wanna know?"

A grin spread across Rit'zu's face.

"Well," she began, pulling over a nearby chair to sit on, "where to begin? I guess with the basics. Readers love the little things."

"Sure." Jim replied curtly. 

"Spock, how long have you been dating?" She asked, holding her PADD on her knee.

"Six months." Spock replied.

"Kirk, where was your first date?"

"Observation deck. Candlelight dinner." Jim replied.

"Spock, what is your favourite thing about Kirk?"

"His courage."

"Kirk, same question."

"His curiosity."

The conversation flowed like clockwork. They mostly gave quick answers. There were a few trickier ones and Jim had focused on keeping their story the same the entire time. Luckily, the questions were mundane and not too speculative. Also lucky that Spock had given his hand a sharp squeeze every time he ventured of course with his rambling.

"Well," Rit'zu finally finished after what felt like a full scale interrogation, "thank you for your time. Captain. Commander. A pleasure." She bid her farewell, her platinum hair swinging over her shoulder as she made to leave.

"Something tells me that that was only the beginning." Jim commented as they both watched her go.

"Undoubtedly." Spock confirmed, retreating his hand back to himself. 

"So what time for the zoo?" Jim asked, effectively changing the topic. 

"I suppose two p.m. standard time would be an optimal choice. It means we avoid peak hours."

"What do you wanna do until then? We could -"

Jim was once again interrupted. This time it was by the two older Vulcans that he been talking over a cup of tea when they had arrived. 

"Captain Kirk." The taller of the two offered a salute as a greeting. An insignia on their robes indicated that they were members of the New Vulcan Science Academy. "Commander Spock. We were wondering if you would be available to discuss your recent research article published in Starfleet Today. Our students were fascinated by your proposed use of the Brosni proii. We would be honoured if you accompanied us to the Academy. If you are not otherwise occupied, that is."

Jim felt a sudden flare of warmth in his chest that could only be described as pride. Given Spock's history on Vulcan, what with the discrimination and isolation from other Vulcans that deemed him unable to rise to their standards - he was glad to see Spock finally respected for his hard work by the people that had once overlooked him.

"I am currently occ -"

"No! He's not occupied at all." Jim interrupted the Vulcan. "Go on, Spock. I'll meet you at the hotel at one-thirty and we can go to the zoo then."

"Jim, I do not wish to leave you on your own -"

"I won't be. I'll meet Bones or Uhura or whatever. You go. You worked hard on that article, Spock." Jim reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go. Or else I'll make it an order."

"Very well," Spock's mouth twitched at the corners, "I will pick you up at one-thirty."

"It's a date." Jim smiled softly at him, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go. "Gentlemen," Jim nodded to the older Vulcans. "I'll get out of your hair."

A confused look crossed their faces for a second before they seemed to brush it off. "Live long and prosper," they offered as Jim departed. 

Now, Jim thought as he watched their figures head off in the direction of the Academy with a proud gleam in his eye, time to figure out how to get back to the hotel.

 

*

 

It was still early morning by the time he navigated his way back to the hotel where he ran into Uhura in the lobby. 

"Captain, where are you headed off to?" Uhura asked in lieu of greeting. 

"I just got back from breakfast with Spock. What about you?" Jim asked as they walked aimlessly together. 

"Back from breakfast with Scotty. He heard about a hotel staff member talking about electrical issue and he ran off to sort it out." Uhura rolled her eyes. "Man doesn't understand the concept of a vacation."

"Spock's the same. He's away to the VSA to discuss his Brosni proii article with the students." Jim chuckled, "he'll be back at one-thirty for our date."

"Ah." She grinned at him. "Spock told me about your little situation." She said, making Jim stop in his tracks.

"He told you? We weren't supposed to tell anyone." He questioned.

"You blabbed to McCoy fairly quickly." Uhura retaliated, not unkindly though. More like a reminder.

"That's... fair, I guess," Jim admitted, picking up his pace again. 

"Only you two could get into a situation like this." She shook her head with a long suffering sigh, though she seemed fairly amused by it. 

"That's not true." Jim replied, sounding petulant.

"Yes it is." She smiled cheekily at him, "only you two could ever attract so much trouble."

Maybe she was right. Their ship did tend to venture into the far side of weird in their travels, usually with the two of them caught in the middle of it all.

"Hey, don't look so worried. I know a way to relax."

"Yeah, what's that?" 

"There's a pool out back. The bar is serving free cocktails all day, every day." She said with a knowing look. "Good way to wind down."

"I'll take you up on that." Jim replied with a sly grin.

 

*

"And, you know, to make matters worse - we have to share a bed. A bed!"

They were sitting outside by the pool, lazing in the sun loungers while the sun glared down at them. Jim bathed in the heat and the chance to finally relax, venting his frustrations to Uhura, who looked so relaxed and carefree as she lay in her bikini, soaking up the sun, that he was almost jealous of her.

"He's not so bad to share a bed with," Uhura replied sympathetically, "he doesn't snore, he doesn't talk in his sleep, doesn't kick or fidget. You probably won't even notice he's there anyway - he sleeps that little to begin with."

Right, Jim sometimes forgot that Spock and Uhura used to date. Was it weird venting his problems about pretending to be her ex-boyfriend's fake boyfriend? Probably. But that didn't stop him.

"Maybe," Jim said, unconvinced as he took a sip of his fruity cocktail. "You're a lot more sympathetic than Bones. He just called me an idiot."

Uhura laughed lightly. "I didn't say you weren't an idiot, Kirk. I'm just willing to be a little more helpful that Leonard."

"He's just mean." Jim huffed, laying back against his bed and watching children run around the pool, daring each other to jump in. 

"He's just looking out for the two of you." Uhura replied rationally. "It was pretty awful of Komack to put you both on the spot like that."

"Yeah. He's an ass."

"He's not so bad. A little interfering but his intentions are good. Pike trusts him. He's not like Marcus." Uhura said.

"I guess." Jim shrugged. "I'm just worried if it might affect my relationship with Spock, you know?"

"Well, that's for you two to decide. It's up to you to make sure it doesn't." Uhura said, before adding playfully, "that's how adults handle things." 

"Very funny. I do behave like an adult, Uhura, I will have you know."

"Of course you do. You and Spock just bring out the best and worst in each other, that's all."

He didn't respond because he knew it was the truth. They had worked through harder things than this and come out not only victorious but with a new layer to their relationship. Maybe this was just another challenge they needed to withstand.

"We're being followed by a reporter." Jim piped up after a short silence. It gained Uhura's attention - she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and straightened up.

"Who?"

"Rit'zu Zwale-ek." Jim replied, unsure if she knew her.

Uhura frowned, her eyebrows drawn in concern. "I've heard of her. She's brutal and she's good at her job. You do not want to slip up in front of her or she'll dig up something on you faster than you can say Starfleet."

"Really?" 

"Big time. She's brave, you know? She exposed the affair between -"

"President Velme of Ritoria and the Grand Duke Kronej of Vexa, yeah - she mentioned." Jim rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious, Jim. Not many reporters would be willing to expose such infamous politicians. The Federation is still investigating the disappearance of that Ritorian reporter, Hutge Blythe. I'm just saying - Rit'zu Zwale-ek is not someone to back away from a challenge. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty if it means getting her story." Uhura sighed, stirring her drink, "just try not to get on her bad side."

Jim lay back against his bed as Uhura went to go for a quick lap in the pool. As if he needed something else to add to his ever-growing mountain of worries.

 

* 

Spock picked him up at one-thirty as promised. Their trip to the zoo was eventful. Many children visiting immediately recognised them and had them surrounded within seconds, bombarding them was question after question. They were almost as bad as the paparazzi. It left them with little time to talk things out with a new child tugging on their sleeves every two seconds. That aside, the zoo turned out to be a very worthwhile trip. Spock was deeply interested in the conservation programme to help protect endangered Vulcan animals, and sat for almost an hour explaining each alien animal to Jim. Spock seemed particularly fond of the sehlat, who lazed around its enclosure, raising its snout every time Spock came back to pet him (which, Jim noted, was frequently).

"I had a pet sehlat as a boy," Spock explained, gently running his fingers through the bear-sized animals brown fur. "His name was I-Chaya."

Jim stared at the large animal and remembered the fat cat he used to feed on the farm. It seemed tiny in comparison to the sehlat. The large protruding fangs put him on edge, however, the animal showed to sign of aggression - he just leaned into Spock's touch with a soft rumble in its chest that sounded an awful lot like a content purr.

"He seems to like you." Jim commented.

"Sehlats are very empathetic animals. They can sense a person's will from touch alone." Spock replied.

"Like Vulcans can?"

"It is similar to low levels of telepathy found in Vulcans, yes. Years of domestication means that they are finely attuned to their surroundings and people." Spock said, stroking behind the sehlat's ears. "They are some of the most intelligent animals in the galaxy and fiercely loyal."

The way the Vulcan spoke about them made Jim almost want to get him one to keep. But they could hardly have an nine hundred pound sehlat wandering around the ship. Still, the sight of Spock continuously petting it had him reconsidering.

The rest of their day was uneventful. They enjoyed lunch at a small restuarant in the heart of the city, watching the bustling crowds through as they ate their meal. He thought he saw a few paparazzi sneaking pictures but he elected to ignore it. During the drive home, Jim found himself nodding off in the passenger's seat and kept snapping himself awake the whole way back to the hotel - probably due to his lack of sleep and the almost suffocating heat making him feel drowsy.

"It is only five p.m. The gala does not start for another three and a half hours. Perhaps you should rest until then." Spock suggested as they entered their room, Jim ever thankful for the cool air conditioning.

"Maybe you're right." Jim replied, looking at the bed longingly and then deciding, "yeah, I think I'll take a nap. What are you gonna do?" He asked as he sat down and began to pull off his shoes before falling back onto the bed with a tired yawn.

"I wish to finish reading a report on a current study we are conducting in the labs. Then I will meditate." Spock said, crossing the room to pick up his PADD. "I will be on the balcony if you require me, Captain."

Jim was already asleep on top of the sheets, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He didn't notice Spock heave a fond sigh as he carefully rearranged him into a more comfortable position on the bed before departing out to the balcony.

 

*

Jim woke, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, two hours later. Spock was still out on the balcony, sitting cross-legged on the couch, reading from his PADD. He ordered two glasses of water from the replicator for them. Yawning and stretching, he made his way out to Spock and collapsed down onto the couch next to him.

The sun had dimmed down in the last two hours, and the sky was a cloudless light pink and pastel red, and the suns were sitting low on the horizon. It was still hot out, but not unbearably so. More like a pleasant permeating warmth. 

"Did you get a chance to meditate?" Jim asked, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table as he handed Spock a glass.

"Yes." Was all Spock replied, engrossed in his reading.

"And the report?" Jim continued, taking a sip of his water.

"Completed." Spock answered.

Jim just nodded and lay back on the couch, taking in the view of the city below. It was bustling with people but they were too far away for Jim to recognise. There was no doubt in his head that his crew were somewhere among the crowd.

"How far away is the gala?" Jim asked, turning his attention back to Spock.

"It is being held in the VSA. It is a ten minute drive from here." Spock replied, finally setting his PADD down. "We will be driving with Lieutenant Uhura, Doctor McCoy and Commander Scott."

Jim checked his watch. It was seven-fifteen. The event didn't start for another hour or so. He needed to get dressed.

"Well, I'm gonna grab a shower. The heat had me sweating like a pig today." Jim announced. 

"We will meet the others at ten past eight." Spock informed him.

"No problem. I'll be quick." Jim replied.

He opted for a quick sonic shower this time. Once he was finished he laid out his dress uniform on the bed and used the spare time to unpack his clothes. 

"Socks," he mumbled to himself as he threw a pair near where his uniform lay. Except his aim was a little off and instead he hit Spock in the chest as the Vulcan entered the room. "Oops," he laughed as Spock picked up the socks and placed them on top of his uniform, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him.

"This room has an iron, right?" Jim asked, folding his shirts neatly into the drawer. 

"Yes, it is in the closet to your left." Spock replied as he too began to unpack his belongings. He lay his dress uniform down next to Jim's, albeit a lot more carefully than Jim had done. 

"Cool. I'll iron the uniforms if you wanna get ready." Jim offered, closing the drawer with his hip. "Your hair is starting to curl again."

Spock reached up and ran a hand through his hair, where it had started to curl again around his fringe and on top.

"Or you could leave it." Jim shrugged, opening up a new drawer and placing his folded up pants and shorts inside. "I like it."

Spock went inside the bathroom while Jim set about ironing the uniforms. When he was finished, he slipped on his own and passed Spock to his in the bathroom.

"Goddamn I hate these things," Jim mumbled as he once again struggled with the clasps on his cuff.

"You are hopeless." Spock commented, stepping into the room looking as pristine as ever in his blue dress uniform. He approached Jim to help him with his cuffs. Jim watched him while Spock expertly connected the clasps. He hadn't fixed his hair.

"I'm telling you for the millionth time - the quartermaster hates me." Jim sighed.

"I am sure that he does not," Spock replied, quirking an eyebrow at him. "There."

Jim thanked him with a beam and sat down to pull his shoes on. "We're on security shift in two days." He said, tying his lace, "Komack sent me the shift rotation."

"Did you reply?"

"Just with an acknowledgement."

"And there I thought you were going to threaten him, Captain." Spock said, and added before Jim could reply, "come, we are to meet the others in five minutes."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim grumbled, standing up and brushing himself off. "Let's go."

They met up with Uhura, McCoy, and Scotty (dressed to the nines in his kilt) in the lobby and they all made their way to the gala together. 

"Goddamnit Scotty, will you move over - you're practically sittin' in my lap!" McCoy yelled from the back seat.

"Whoa, Scotty! I see London, I see France!" Jim laughed from the passenger seat as he averted his eyes from the rear-view mirror.

"Las' time I carpool with you lot," Scotty grumbled good-naturedly, crossing his legs over and shifting in his seat.

"Can I sit in the front on the way home?" Uhura piped up from the back, arms crossed over her chest. 

"And stick me in the back with those two? No chance." Jim replied, doing his best to ignore Scotty and McCoy bickering in the back. Spock said nothing, but the drumming of his fingers on the wheel repeatedly, staring straight ahead, clearly not amused with all of their antics. Jim gave his bicep a calming squeeze.

They arrived at the gala on time, shuffling through the throng at the entrance to get inside. Starfleet officers dressed in gold, blue, and red were the most prominent to spot. However, foreign dignitaries in fine purples and glittering whites stood out amongst the crowds, Vulcan elders in their black robes, Orions in their maroon and gold gowns. People were shaking his hands with every step he took further into the room and camera flashes were lighting up everywhere he looked. 

"Captain, Commander." A voice called from behind them and they turned around to locate the source. A smile immediately broke out on Jim's face.

"Admiral." They greeted simultaneously.

"So formal," Pike shook his head with a grin, "get in here!" He pulled them both into a one-armed hug each (his walking stick digging sharply into Jim's shoulder), ruffling their hair. "My boys - look at you!"

"Having fun, are you?" Jim asked, face squished into the admiral's shoulder.

"I'm having a blast, son." Pike replied.

"Are you drunk?" Jim asked suspiciously, pulling back. Spock did the same, straightening his uniform with an unimpressed look. Jim very much doubted any other admiral - no, scratch that, any other person - would have gotten away with that.

"Little bit. These Vulcan drinks are strong." Pike admitted, examining his empty glass.

"I've been told." Jim replied, remembering McCoy on the ship.

"So..." Pike said, almost loftily.

"So..." Spock imitated.

"How are you two lovebirds?" 

"Oh, shut up!" Jim snapped, suppressing the urge to punch him in the arm. Or maybe the face. He hissed under his breath, "we know you're in on it." 

"God, when Komack told me the plan I just about kept it together. I haven't laughed that hard in years." Pike then demonstrated said laugh, leaning of his stick for support. 

Jim rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, praying for the strength not to just kick his walking stick and leave him there. 

"It's not funny." He protested. 

"It is." Pike replied without missing a beat. "And the article! A personal favourite read of mine these days.”

"Yeah, almost as funny as the ones about you and my dad." Jim retaliated with a biting tone. 

That sobered Pike up. "Oh. Yeah. Those ones." 

"You are aware of them?" Spock asked.

"Yeah. Found out a few years back when Admiral Shu told me that some punk ass cadet used it in an example of frat regs in their essay."

Jim didn't try to disguise his laugh. "How did they do?"

Pike was silent for a minute before he sighed, "full marks."

Jim laughed even harder, happy that he was no longer on the receiving end of all the poking and mockery.

"She argued that they were right in theory and so credited them for it." Pike grumbled, casting a quick glare over at Admiral Shu's turned back on the other side of the room.

"It blew over though, right? The rumours and speculation." Jim asked, his easy smile just about disguising his own concern.

"Yeah, course they did." Pike shrugged, "that stuff happens all the time."

"That's what Spock said." Jim said.

"Oh, there's Ambassador Eli." Pike excused himself to speak with the Crav dignitary.

"I need a drink." Jim decided, "you coming?" 

"No," Spock declined, "my father is over by the Vulcan Council. Excuse me, Captain." 

Shrugging, Jim set off for the bar and ordered an Andorian Slush. He sat at the bar, observing the people and occasionally greeting a few. Sure, he was a good diplomat when the need arose but he didn't necessarily enjoy it. Spock was better at that kind of thing. The only person worse than him at it was currently stalking toward him.

"When we get back to the ship, I'm settin' Scotty's kilt on fire." McCoy declared, signalling the barman for a drink. 

"Why wait?" Jim mused, his wandering gaze landing on Spock. The Vulcan was speaking with two Vulcan Elders and his father, arms folded behind his back and nodding along with whatever the older woman was saying. The ease at which he fit in almost unsettled Jim, a reminder that Spock had once thought about leaving the ship to pursue the diplomatic life. Then again, Jim had had the same plan. Funny how those things worked out.

"... and next time I actually have to see his junk outside of a medical evaluation I'm gonna kill him - Jim, are you even listening to me?" McCoy demanded.

"Yeah," Jim lied, not taking his eyes off of Spock as Srall joined the group. "Medical evals or something, right?"

"Jim, there are goldfish in the animal labs with better attention spans with you." McCoy said, deadpan.

"Why do you think that Srall guy likes Spock so much?" Jim implored, a sinking feeling in his stomach as Srall handed Spock a drink.

"I don't know. I don't like him too much." McCoy shrugged, downing half off his own drink.

"Srall?" 

"No. Spock."

Jim rolled his eyes and averted his gaze from the Vulcans and instead turned it to McCoy. "You're such a liar. I know you like him. And he likes you. I'm sure he cares about you as much as you do about him."

"Not much then." McCoy said flatly.

"He likes you, Bones. Of course he does. Deep down."

"Well, golly, that makes me feel mighty special." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Of course I like him, kid. He is, as much as I hate to admit it, one of my best friends."

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I'm just doin' this for you, kid. I know you hate to see your boyfriend and your best friend fightin'." He joked.

"Hilarious." Jim said flatly. "But seriously, why do you think Srall is so interested in him?"

"Well," McCoy began, stirring his drink, "objectively, Spock's a good lookin' guy. He's smart. He has a good job. Most people like those kinda things."

"Most people don't even know him that well. There's more to him than that." Jim said. "You know - he's kind, he's funny, he's brave."

"Worried that Srall might steal your man?" McCoy asked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bones. I'm just saying. Most people don't know him. He deserves somebody that really gets him, you know? Not just someone who's interested in him at face value. I just don't wanna see him get hurt."

"Well, that's part of life, Jimmy." McCoy said. "Remember when you considered going on a date with Gary Mitchell back at the Academy? You said the same thing about yourself then. You moved on though. Spock will too."

"Yeah. Mitchell was a douche." Jim said, changing the topic.

"Tell me about it. He wouldn't leave Christine alone for weeks on end at the Academy. Until she broke his nose, that is." McCoy laughed fondly. "Speaking of which: he's here."

"He is?"

"Yep. He's a commander on the USS Gallagher." 

"How the hell did he ever make it to command?" Jim snorted in irritation. 

"Just don't make a scene if you run into him." McCoy ordered.

The evening passed pleasantly as more guests continued to arrive. Jim and Spock were sat at a table - Jim idly picking at his food and Spock sipping at a glass of water. They watched as the floor was cleared for entertainment - dancers performing from various different planets, singers orchestrating their native music. Jim clapped along politely and took no notice as the people began to gravitate towards the centre floor to dance to a slow melody. That is, however, until he felt a hand clasp his shoulder and he looked up to see Komack smiling down at him. Jim narrowed his eyes at the admiral before turning his head back to the dance floor, pretending to watch.

"Enjoying the dancing, Captain, Commander?"

"Sure." Jim replied flatly.

"Thought you both would," the hand on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly, and then there was a whisper in his hear. "Get up and dance, Kirk."

"What?" Jim snapped loudly as he spun around in his seat, attracting the attention of several nearby onlookers.

"It's true," Komack replied loudly with a false laugh, waiting until the onlookers went back their conversations before he whispered, "both of you get up there and dance. Together. Consider it an order."

And then Jim was unceremoniously shoved from his chair to his feet. 

"Spock," Komack said politely, a warning gleam in his eye. 

Spock heaved a small sigh as he stood and offered Kirk his hand. Reluctantly, Jim took at after Komack nudged him sharply in the side. 

"Uh, Spock? I can't dance." Jim whispered as they slowly - very slowly - made their way to the floor.

"You do not know how to dance?" Spock cast him a questioning glance.

"Well sorry but I was bit busy at the Academy going to class. Must have missed those compulsory dance classes, didn't get a chance to sneak a peak into tap dance two-oh-one." Jim snapped.

"If you are so uncertain then I will lead. My mother taught me as a child." Spock said as they came to a stop in the centre of the crowd. "Here," Spock guided Jim's hands to his shoulders and placed his own on Jim's hips. "It is simple." He said, as he began to lightly sway back and forth.

"Everyone's looking at us." Jim mumbled, cheeks heating up. It was true. Every eye was on them and there were cameras flashing like crazy as they swayed to the music.

"That is correct." Spock confirmed, not comforting at all.

"You're not supposed go agree with me, Spock. Ugh, what if I mess up?" Jim fretted, nervously gripping Spock's shirt between his fingers.

"Technically if you mess up it will most likely be perceived my fault as I am leading." Spock said, which - once again - was not comforting.

"I'm so thankful you're willing to risk your dance reputation like that for me." Jim said with a tad of sarcasm.

"It is of no consequence." Spock replied as he twirled Jim around a swift spin.

Jim laughed, finally starting to relax as he got the hang of it and people went back their own business. They danced for a short while until they were interrupted by a tugging on Jim's shirt. They came to an abrupt halt, staring down at an Orion girl, no older than seven, smiled up brightly at them.

"Can I dance with Mister Spock?" She asked, tugging his shirt again. "Do you mind if I do, Captain?"

"Of course not, kid," Jim smiled softly at her beaming response. "But it's really up to Spock. Spock?"

Spock's eyes flicked up to him and back at her. She looked up at him with large, pleading eyes, fidgeting with the bow on her dress nervously. 

"Of course," Spock replied, holding out his hand for her. "Do you know how to dance?"

"No," she replied happily as Jim moved aside and she took his place.

Spock gave Jim another look, almost amused, and held both her hands to instruct her. She stood on his feet frequently but he didn't seem to mind as she waltzed around at a much faster pace than the current song.

Jim backed away until he was back at his table and collapsed down into his seat, watching them with a smile.

"An adorable image, Captain. Thoughts?"

Rit'zu Zwale-ek appeared so suddenly that Jim almost spilled his entire drink down his front. It sloshed dangerously as he slammed it down onto the table.

"Lemme guess. Reporting the gala?" Jim asked, ignoring her question.

"Got it in one. So, thoughts?" She gestured to Spock and the Orion girl, who was giggling and swinging in Spock's arms.

"Spock's good with kids." Jim shrugged.

"An admirable quality in a partner. Tell me, Captain, are there any kids in the future for Jim and Spock?" Rit'zu asked, sliding down into the seat beside him.

"Still early days." Jim replied, refusing to elaborate.

"That's true. A starship is no place to raise a child, I suppose. But perhaps to live out a happy marriage. Are there any proposals on the horizon? A bonding, perhaps?" 

"Early days." Jim repeated. 

"Well, I see I'm getting nowhere here." Rit'zu sighed, picking up a drink off a waiter's platter as he walked by. "Reporting aside, how are you enjoying your night so far?"

Jim watched her from the side of his eye. She had tucked her PADD back into her pocket and was stirring a white drink that looked like snow in a glass.

"It's fine. Galas aren't really my thing." He shrugged. 

"Mine either," she grinned, bringing a spoonful of her drink to her mouth. "I'm like you, Captain."

"Is that so?" Jim raised an eyebrow at her.

"I like to be where the action is." She explained simply.

"Ever considered joining Starfleet?" Jim asked.

"It's not for me, I'm afraid. I don't mix well with diplomacy. And I don't take too well to being ordered around, if I'm being completely honest."

"Oh," was all Jim had to say to that, and then to be polite, asked, "how's your night going?"

"Busy," she replied simply, throwing a look around the room.

"No rest for the wicked, I suppose."

"None indeed." She side eyed him with a grin from ear to ear. "Well, I wouldn't want to burden you any longer. Here's my card if you decide you wanna open up and tell all." She slid it across the table. "Until next time, Captain."

"What did she want?" McCoy asked as he slid into her vacated seat. 

"An exposé," Jim replied, slipping her card into his pocket with a reminder to throw it out when he had the chance. "The true love story between Captain Kirk and Commander Spock." 

"Something I am interested in myself, Captain." 

Jim felt his heart stop in his chest as the familiar voice carried from behind him. Cursing internally, he turned in his seat to greet the person. 

"Ambassador Sarek. How are you, sir?"

Sarek stood looming over him from his seated position. It was almost intimidating.

"I am adequate, Captain. How are you?" He replied politely.

"Good. Great, in fact. I was just about to head out for some fresh air." Jim said in an attempt to run off.

"If you do not mind, I will join you." Sarek said, crushing Jim's plan.

"Not at all," Jim said, gesturing for Sarek to lead the way and throwing a pleading look at McCoy behind his back as he followed the Vulcan out. McCoy just shrugged and stayed in his seat.

"You wanted to talk, sir?" Jim asked once they were outside. The night air was cool.

"I merely wish to enquire about Spock's wellbeing." Sarek replied.

"Oh." That hadn't been what Jim was expecting. In fairness, he didn't know what to expect but that definitely hadn't been it. 

"He is very rarely upcoming with such matters, as one would expect. I thought perhaps, as his partner, you would be more willing to discuss it." Sarek explained.

"Oh." Jim repeated. "Erm, he's - he's doing good. Been keeping busy on the ship. Recently published an article on Brosni proii that was pretty good."

"Yes. I read it. A fascinating piece." Sarek commented. He didn't ask anything else.

"Not to sound too forward but is this all you wanted to talk about?" Jim blurted after a short silence.

"Yes."

"Oh." Jim repeated for the third time, a feeling of relief washing over him. "Well, he's doing great."

"I am pleased to hear that." Sarek said with a single nod. 

Jim stood there awkwardly, debating whether or not it would be rude to leave. He was about to make a break for it when Spock appeared.

"Captain," Spock greeted, "Father, Elder Salhra would like to speak with you inside." 

"Ah. Please excuse me, Captain," Sarek offered him the ta'al, and then to Spock, "Sa-fu."

There was a mixed mumble of "Father" and "Ambassador" in response to his departure.

"What did Elder Salhra want to talk about?" Jim asked.

"He did not. You just looked very uncomfortable." Spock replied.

Jim felt a smile work it's way on to his face. "Thanks." 

"Would you care to join me inside? The event is ending soon and Admiral Komack advised us to 'put on a show before we go'." Spock said.

Jim sighed as he followed Spock inside. "I'm really gonna kill him, Spock." 

"Perhaps I could assist you." 

"Yeah?" Jim grinned.

"There is very little I would not do for you, Jim." Spock replied honestly.

"I think we're in the same boat." Jim said softly. 

"Kirk, Spock - get out there and dance to the last song." Komack ordered, quite literally appearing out of nowhere. "People need to know you're together. Put on a show."

"We already danced," Jim whispered after him as the admiral stalked away to mingle.

"I do not believe he is referring to a dance, Captain."

"Then what is he talking about? What does he want us to do?" Jim asked, glaring at Komack's back before the realisation hit him.

Spock seemed to catch on quicker than he did. "I think he is referring to a kiss. It will put people's doubts to rest."

"Kiss? In front of all these people?" Jim asked, almost hysterically.

"It would appear so." Spock replied just as the band announced their last song. Komach threw a look at the two of them and nodded subtly to the dance floor.

"Let's get this over with," Jim said, pulling Spock to the centre again. The song was slow and they moved in time to it. Every time they turned he saw more and more faces in the crowd - the most prominent one being Spock's father. His nerves was skyrocketing as flash after flash of cameras went off and the song ventured towards it end.

Any second now. He was staring into Spock's eyes and gave him a small, nervous smile. 

"When the song comes to a stop, okay?" Jim murmured to him and Spock gave a single, subtle nod. The song was starting to fade and people had already started to applaud. When the last note finished, Jim - his heart racing - leaned up to press their mouths together, meeting Spock somewhere in the middle. He heard a sharp intake of breath to his left and elected to ignore it, focusing on the feel of Spock's lips against his. It lasted maybe ten seconds at most and they quickly parted, Jim taking his hands from Spock's shoulder to clap politely for the band and avoiding the looks being thrown his way. As soon it was deemed appropriate to stop clapping, they bid their goodbyes to the others and hastily left.

"Think it worked?" Jim asked as he climbed into the passenger seat beside Spock - their designated driver it seemed as he spotted McCoy and Scotty drunkenly stumble down the front steps and make their way towards them. 

"I do not see how it would not." Spock replied as Scotty and McCoy tumbled into the back seat, laughing and shoving one another. Uhura followed shortly after and they took off on the drive back to the hotel.

 

*

"That was some night, huh?" Jim yawned as they entered their room, tossing his key card onto a nearby dresser.

"Indeed." Spock said as he shut the door, trying to supress a yawn of his own.

It was then that Jim remembered that there was two of them and only one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
